Glimpses
by LavenderSkies
Summary: Supplementary to the story "Searching". A collection of vignettes showing glimpses into the new lives of Grimmjow, Ulquiorra, Orihime, and the rest of the gang.
1. Hell's Deliverance

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo.

A/N: This collection of vignettes are supplementary to my story "Searching". Please read that one first as this contains spoilers and things here probably won't make much sense until you do. So, to the new readers who stumbled in here, I'll be awaiting your return (hopefully, LOL!). To returning friends, I hope you'll find these enjoyable as well…

* * *

**First Glimpse: Hell's Deliverance**

(Thirteen years after the Las Noches invasion, in Karakura General Hospital)

Standing at the end of the hallway and around the corner, he waited with patience. It had already been thirteen years. Another hour or two wouldn't hurt. However, as shady-looking as he was with his eyes hidden under the shadows of his hat and most of his face concealed behind his fan, it was a wonder why none of the hospital staff even questioned him on what he was doing just standing there for so long.

Eventually, when visiting hours were almost over, every last visiting friend and family finally filed out of the room he'd been waiting to enter. When the hallway cleared, Urahara made his move.

Opening the door silently, he peeked in to see the new mother sitting on the bed, smiling softly down at the child in her arms, her devoted husband standing by her bed with his back facing the door. It was a perfect picture of a happy family sharing a tender moment together. Urahara almost felt bad for intruding. He grinned behind his fan. _Almost._

"He looks like you," Rukia said quietly.

Ichigo leaned closer to study the newborn. "You think so? I can't tell. He just looks kind of…wrinkly to me."

She chuckled. "Idiot. Well, you're always wrinkly between the brows, so I guess those would be your traits."

He scowled, exhibiting the wrinkles between his brows she was referring to.

"But look at his pretty blue eyes," she continued. "Those would be _my_ traits."

"Rukia, your eyes aren't exactly the same color as his," he said flatly.

"No, but they're _pretty_," she retorted with a smug and almost cheeky grin.

Ichigo chuckled lightly with a shake of his head. He wasn't going to argue with that one. "Then what about his hair? I swear he's got weird colored hair."

Rukia snorted. "You're one to talk, Mr. Naturally Bright Orange."

"I'm serious!" He ran a gentle hand over the boy's head. He didn't really have much hair yet, and what little hair he did have was too fine for Ichigo to really be sure, but… "Doesn't it look kind of…blue to you?"

"Yes, well, that _would_ make sense," Urahara suddenly spoke up from beside Ichigo, completely nonchalant. "He _is_ the former sexta Espada after all."

Ichigo turned toward the exiled shinigami. His brain was so overloaded by what he'd just heard that there wasn't even room in there for him to be surprised by the fact that Urahara had suddenly popped up out of nowhere. Ichigo wasn't certain but…he could have sworn he just heard Urahara say something about his son and…sexta Espada… "What?" he finally uttered, semi-intelligently.

"Congratulations, Kurosaki-san!" Urahara grinned widely as he slapped his fan shut on the palm of his hand. "Your son is the reincarnation of the strong and handsome, albeit somewhat scary, sexta Espada, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques!" he announced, probably with too much enthusiasm for his own good.

Total shutdown.

Ichigo stared blankly at Urahara. He even forgot to scowl. Then, after a very drawn out pause, he finally responded…with his fist. He moved so fast, it seemed almost like he was using bankai.

In the blink of an eye, Urahara was on the floor at the other end of the room. "That's…some greeting, Kurosaki-san." He gingerly touched his now broken and bleeding nose with his fingers and winced. "Need I remind you that you're in a hospital?"

Nope. There was no room in Ichigo's brain for common courtesy either. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN HE'S GRIMMJOW?!" he hollered, loud enough to reach all ears within a one-mile radius. "How did that happen?! I thought he disappeared!"

Behind him, Rukia frowned thoughtfully at the child in her arms. "Grimmjow? Hmm…"

"Well, apparently…this is where he disappeared to," Urahara explained as he pulled himself back to his feet. "When spirits die, they come back to the living world. That's the way it works. It's not _my_ fault he landed in your lap," he said, wearing his most innocent look.

Ichigo glared skeptically. "How do you even know it's him? Where's your proof?"

"Oh, I have my sources," Urahara replied, nonspecifically. "As you know, most of the Espada are still unaccounted for. I've been trying to track them down for a while now, and this is the first one I found," he said, lying through his teeth.

"Ah! I got it!" Rukia exclaimed. "We'll name him Ginjo!"

Ichigo whipped around with wide eyes. "Rukia, tell me you're _kidding_!"

Rukia, however, was already holding the child out at arm's length, looking him over while nodding to herself with approval. "Yep. You are definitely Ginjo."

Ichigo grabbed his forehead with his hand as he tried to will the headache to disappear. "If that's the case, then we might as well just call him Grimmjow."

"What are you talking about, Ichigo?" Rukia said as she cuddled the child in her arms again. "Ginjo's a great name. A 'silver dawn' is like a new beginning. One filled with potential for all kinds of good things." She smiled at the boy. "It's perfect."

Ichigo looked at her and blinked. He hadn't quite thought of that.

"In any case, it's not like he'll remember anything," Rukia continued. "He's been reborn. He has no memories of his previous life."

"About that," Urahara chimed in casually, "…there's actually a possibility that he _might_ remember."

Two seconds later, Urahara had a black eye to go with his broken nose.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Ichigo was definitely on a short fuse at the moment. Everything Urahara said just made him want to bash his face in. It didn't help that he was completely confused.

"The reason why some spirits become hollows is because they have an attachment they are unable to let go of," Urahara explained as he nursed his eye with one hand. "This, you already know. So, even though they will lose their hearts and ultimately forget what that attachment was, it doesn't change the fact that hollows are spirits prone to developing attachments. If a hollow of great power, say a vasto lorde, has something he's unable to let go of, he _may_ be able to resist the memory wipe process. And members of the Espada were exceptionally powerful beings. It doesn't happen often, of course. There aren't that many vasto lordes to begin with." Urahara looked from Ichigo to Rukia, making certain to maintain a deceptively serious face. Even though the entire thing was nothing more than a complete fabrication, there was enough logic to his explanation for it to sound plausible…or so he hoped.

"I've…never heard of it before," Rukia said with a pensive and slightly troubled frown.

Ichigo ran a hand down his face with a heavy sigh. _Great. If there was something Grimmjow couldn't let go of, it was probably his fight with me…_

"Don't worry so much," Urahara said, silently relieved at the young couple's reaction. "I'm merely saying that there is a possibility. Even if it _does_ happen, it won't be anytime soon."

"How long?" Ichigo asked. One could almost see the weight that suddenly dropped on his shoulders.

"I'd say it would take at least ten years of development before he might show signs of memory," Urahara replied.

Ichigo tried to absorb everything as best he could, but he couldn't help but glare at the older man. "Somehow, I just _know_ this is your fault."

Urahara smirked slightly. "Well, if you're that concerned…I can take him off your hands."

"HELL, NO!" both parents said in unison, horrified he would even make the suggestion.

"You're not taking my kid anywhere!" Ichigo added, just for good measure.

"That's the spirit!" Urahara exclaimed, pointing his fan at the younger man. "No matter who he was before, it doesn't change who he is now…isn't that right?" He smirked. "Well then, I guess I should take my leave." Tipping his hat slightly, he headed for the door.

As soon as the door closed behind the exiled shinigami, Ichigo plopped himself into the chair beside the bed, his forehead falling tiredly onto Rukia's lap with a groan.

"Are you worried?" she asked.

He remained motionless for the longest time before finally turning his head toward her with a blank expression. Reaching up, he touched the hand of the child in her arms. When the boy responded by grasping his finger with his small hand, Ichigo found it difficult to relate this fragile child, his child, with his former enemy, the once blood thirsty sexta Espada. It just seemed too unreal. "Ginjo…" he mumbled. "It's a new beginning, right?"

She smiled gently. "Ah."

"...I like that." He thought another moment and returned the smile. "We'll make it work."

* * *

(One year later, in a hospital somewhere on the other side of the world)

"…and so, that's basically how it is," Urahara grinned as he wrapped up his explanation. "Just thought I'd give you a heads up."

Ishida Uryuu, with his newborn son in his arms, stood dumbstruck. As if it wasn't weird enough that Urahara knew where he was, knew that his son was born today, and even came in person to visit, the shinigami had to tell him this unbelievable story. "…Espada…you say…"

"Yes," Urahara nodded with a smile. "Ulquiorra, to be exact."

"…I see…" And with that, Ishida fainted.

Urahara reached out and grabbed the child as his father crumbled into a heap on the floor. "Hmm…that was relatively painless." He looked over to the bed. It was a good thing the mother was asleep. Then he chuckled as he looked at the child in his arms. "Your father seems a bit fragile. You should look after him."

He stepped over Ishida and placed the boy back in his crib. "Well then, Ulquiorra-san. Best of luck to you. I'm sure we'll meet again."

* * *

(Another year later, in Karakura General Hospital)

"Look at her eyes," Ichigo said proudly, standing beside the bed. "Those are my traits for sure."

"No," Rukia retorted, sitting on the bed with the newest addition to their family in her arms. "Her eyes are pretty, so they're _my_ traits."

"What?!" He rolled his eyes. "Ok, fine. Then the bright orange hair…_definitely_ mine."

"I'm afraid not," she smiled smugly. "They're pretty, too, so it's mine as well."

Ichigo scowled. "You know, from the way you talk, it's like you think I look like crap."

She laughed. Seeing his scowl deepen at her lack of denial to what he just said, she changed the subject. "Well…she's wrinkly."

"That's just because she's a newborn," he said incredulously. "That goes away in like…a day."

"Oh, so you figured that out, huh?"

He was about to retort when the door opened.

"Congratulations, Kurosa—"

Ichigo's fist was in Urahara's face so fast, he didn't get the chance to finish.

"What did I do?!" Urahara inquired with a slightly hurt expression.

"It's just a precaution," Ichigo said, still holding up his fist. "You better not be here to tell me that I got another Espada on my hands!"

Urahara placed a finger to his lips. "Shh!! Don't say it like that. You'll hurt Ginjo's feelings! Look at him. He's such a good boy." He went over and crouched beside the toddler who was sitting on the floor playing with some colorful blocks. He reached out a hand to touch the boy's face. "Hey there, Gin—"

Ginjo's teeth clamped down on Urahara's hand so fast, he didn't get the chance to finish that time either.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…!!" Fearful that he might hurt the boy if he jerked his hand away, Urahara was forced to just bear with the pain.

Ichigo folded his arms with a grin. "Better watch out, Urahara-san. He's in the 'bite everything in sight' stage."

Urahara turned his head towards Ichigo. "Thanks for the warning," he deadpanned.

Ichigo arched a brow. "Come on, Ginjo. Work that teeth."

Hearing that definite go-ahead from his father, the little devil bit down even harder, chuckling in the process.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…!!" Urahara winced as he inhaled.

Ichigo almost couldn't hold in his laughter that time. "You're right, Urahara-san. He is a good boy."

Eventually, Urahara used his free hand to tickle the boy's tummy. When the kid opened his mouth to laugh, Urahara made his escape. Blowing on the teeth marks on his hand, the exiled shinigami went over to Rukia's bedside to see the newborn baby girl in her arms. "I assure you that this child is not an Espada, but she _is_ special."

Ichigo frowned. "Special how?"

Urahara smiled, eyes on the child. "She is Inoue Orihime."

"Inoue?!" the couple said in unison with gaping wide eyes.

"That's right," Urahara confirmed as he reached a somewhat hesitant hand out to touch the child's arm ever so gently.

Rukia studied the older man as he looked upon her daughter and saw a fondness in his expression that she had never seen him wear before. "Do you want to hold her?"

Urahara blinked, slightly surprised. "…May I?"

Rukia smiled as she handed the girl over to him.

Even though Urahara Kisuke was knowledgeable and experienced with many things, babies were _not_ one of them. It was undoubtedly awkward to be handling a newborn, but he did it with as much care as possible.

Ichigo did not miss the expression on his face either, and it stirred up old feelings that he had been trying to bury for years. He will never forget that night in Las Noches when, after all the fighting, Urahara showed up in that half-demolished throne room with a lifeless Orihime in his arms and told everyone that she had rejected the hougyoku. Ever since then, something had broken down between himself and the exiled shinigami.

They had kept in contact over the years, but it was more because of shinigami business than anything else. Somewhere deep down, there was a part of Ichigo that had never forgiven Urahara for letting Orihime go through with it. Even though he knew it had been her choice, even though he understood the whole thing about the greater good, a part of him simply could not let go. Then there was also the part of him that knew he had been trying to shift the blame, because he himself had been unable to fulfill his promise to the girl…the promise to protect her. They may have claimed victory that day, but Ichigo had failed his mission.

Looking at the blond-haired shinigami now, however, it was obvious that the one who had placed the most blame on Urahara for what happened to Orihime was Urahara himself. There was such a mixture of affection, guilt, relief, and sorrow in the man's usually deceptively cheerful features, it was almost difficult to watch.

Ichigo sighed as he made a decision. "Urahara-san, if you do it right, I'll let you name her." He looked over at Rukia as if to ask if it was all right with her.

"Ah," Rukia agreed. "I think she would like that."

"Can we call her Kisuke Jr.?" Urahara asked with a grin.

"I said do it right, damn it!" Ichigo snapped.

Urahara could not hide his smile as he looked thoughtfully at the child in his arms. "Himeko," he finally said, because to him, she will always be a princess. "Will that be acceptable…Kurosaki-san?"

"Kurosaki Himeko, huh?" Ichigo grinned. "Sounds good to me."

"Ah, Ichigo!" Rukia suddenly exclaimed with urgency as she pointed to the toddler they had almost forgotten about. "Stop him! Stop him!"

With multiple crayons in each hand, the little blue-haired devil was currently in the process of redecorating the hospital room walls.

"Crap!" Ichigo immediately went over to pick up the boy who then tried to draw on his face instead. "Stop it, Ginjo!" Ichigo said while trying to bat away his son's hands. That, however, only succeeded in encouraging the boy to try harder to get at his father's face, chuckling as he attempted to get past Ichigo's defenses.

Rukia sighed with a shake of her head. "Why'd you bring crayons, idiot?"

"I didn't!" Ichigo denied, still fending off the crayon attacks. "He smuggled them in!"

While the parents were busy fussing over the toddler, Urahara kept his attention on the one in his arms. "Everything will work out this time," he said with a small smile, loud enough only for Himeko to hear. "You'll see."

* * *

A/N: While these vignettes will not necessarily be in chronological order, I thought it should at least start at the beginning. The first few chapters will probably revolve around childhood times, too, just to avoid too much confusion. And since this isn't a linear story, I decided to name the chapters.

In case anyone missed it in the notes last time, Gin means "silver" and Jo means "dawn". That's what Rukia was talking about. And I'm not a Japanese expert, so don't take my word as gospel.

Updates will probably be more sporadic. This is one of those 'as ideas come' sort of project. I'm also trying to balance this with my DA account, cooking up a sequel in my head, and that thing I keep forgetting about called life.

Random question: Is it just me, or does that glasses wearing guy in the anime's new filler arc look like Szayel's un-evil twin? Haha!

And to m o o g l e d a i m e, if you're reading this… (hands you a bucket and a towel, just in case. LOL!)

Hope you liked! Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	2. Awakening

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I am the recent owner of Uryuu's (but in my mind Uriya's) star-shaped Quincy cross!! LOL! (Ugh…I'm so retarded sometimes…)

* * *

**Second Glimpse: Awakening**

(Uriya – Age five)

Ishida Uryuu stood and watched as his son played not too far away. Then again, perhaps play wasn't the correct term. The boy was…keeping himself occupied. Crouched beside a flowerbed, he was silently picking at the pebbles that lined its edge.

"This past year's been difficult, but…I'm doing well," Uryuu said quietly. "We're both doing well." He paused a moment to collect his thoughts. "He's quiet. But then…he was never a rowdy child to begin with, was he?"

Uryuu focused on the boy again who had just picked a tiny flower with light blue petals from the flowerbed. Twirling it between his thumb and finger, Uriya stared at it as though transfixed.

"I'll take good care of him," Uryuu continued. "Don't worry. Although…sometimes I feel more like he's the one who's taking care of me." He gave a light chuckle and took another reflective pause. "Maybe in a few more decades, if I'm lucky, I'll be able to see you again. But I'll be old and frail then…while you'll probably still be young and beautiful…" He smiled sadly at the gravestone before him. "I wonder if you'll still recognize me."

After lingering a while longer in silence, Uryuu called out to his son. "Come on, Uriya. It's time to go."

The boy turned towards the sound of Uryuu's voice. Picking up the few small pebbles that he had selected, he got to his feet and placed them in his pocket. As he went over to join his father's side, he placed the tiny blue flower he had picked on his mother's grave.

Uryuu smiled at the boy's gesture and held out his hand.

Uriya blinked once at the hand. He really felt he was old enough to walk on his own, but since he sensed that it made his father feel better, he took the proffered hand without protest.

"Do you miss your mother?" Uryuu asked gently as they began to walk.

"…yes," the boy replied, his voice quiet, his eyes glued to the ground. "But I know she's fine, so…it's fine." It was true to some degree. His mother had been sick for so long. He watched her die in the hospital bed, then witnessed her spirit leave her body, looking much healthier than when she was alive. They were even able to bid her farewell before a man in black robes appeared and sent her spirit away. Uriya was at least comforted by the fact that she was…somewhere, and no longer suffering.

Uryuu studied his son for a moment. Perhaps it was the boy's knowledge of life after death that helped to ease the pain. He had been able to see spirits since before he even learned how to speak. Uryuu had often caught his eyes trailing wandering spirits when he was no more than an infant. Still, he sometimes seemed too emotionally strong to be just a five-year-old. "It's fine…even though you can't see her anymore?"

Uriya subconsciously tightened his grasp on his father's hand. "You're here, so…I'll be fine."

Then again…he was still a child with needs. Uryuu took a deep breath and exhaled. "Now then. Why don't we go somewhere fun?"

"It won't be fun for me," the boy said bluntly.

The Quincy arched a brow, giving the boy a sideways glance. "But I haven't even told you where, yet."

Uriya gave a small sigh. "Whenever you start off by saying 'why don't we go somewhere fun', you're thinking about going to the place that sells sewing things."

Uryuu faltered, caught off guard by that observation. _Do I really do that? _"Uh…well…you don't think it's fun?"

"No." The response was immediate and decisive.

"Don't you like the clothes I make you?"

The boy thought for a moment. "Yes…as long as you leave out the frills."

"Hmm? But that's my special touch," Uryuu said, somewhat disappointed.

"I don't like the special touch."

Uryuu hung his head with a sigh. The boy sure didn't mince his words, did he? Well, at least nobody can say he wasn't honest.

"But…" It was Uryia's turn to huff a sigh. "I guess we can go."

Uryuu smiled to himself. It had been little things like this that got him through their first year without her.

* * *

When they pulled up to the driveway of their house after returning from the fun/not-so-fun place, they were greeted by the sight of another car parked outside their home. To see a car there was nothing out of the ordinary. It was the person who was leaning against said car while puffing on a cigarette that caught Uryuu's attention and, subsequently, threatened to ruin his day.

Father and son walked up to the unexpected visitor. "What are you doing here?" Uryuu asked, none too politely.

"Can't a man pay a visit to his grandchild?" Ryuuken asked evenly, unaffected by his son's tone of voice.

Uryuu elected to ignore that question. "How did you even find me?" They had moved shortly after Uriya's mother passed away.

The older Quincy took one last drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the pavement and stepping on the butt. "If you didn't want to be found, you should have picked a profession that wouldn't put your name in all the fashion magazines, Mr. Designer. Either way, you didn't think you'd be able to hide from me, did you?"

Uryuu grumbled. "Who said anything about hiding?" He was merely happily staying away.

Ryuuken took a moment to give his son's home a once over. It was just an average house in a regular neighborhood. "Aren't you supposed to be making billions?" he inquired impassively. "Why do you live in a dump?"

"It's not a dump! It's just not unnecessarily spacious." Uryuu scowled. "_Why_ are you here again?"

Ryuuken spared his son another glance before crouching down to the youngest Ishida's eye-level. "How are you, Uriya? Is your father taking good care of you?" Although his voice could not be described as warm by any means, it definitely did not carry the same icy tone it did just moments ago.

Uriya glanced up at his father before giving a nod in response.

"Is he feeding you properly?"

Uryuu gave his father a death glare. "What are you trying to imply?"

The child nodded once more. "The meat he makes is hard to chew, but you can still eat it."

Uryuu turned his head away, trying to hide a blush. _Why does he have to be so honest and straightforward??_

Ryuuken smirked at the child. "I have something for you." He reached into the inside pocket of his suit and pulled out a silver chain with a Quincy cross dangling from it, one that looked very similar to the one Uryuu had used when he first met Kurosaki Ichigo. "Do you know what this is?"

Uriya nodded. On rare occasions, he had seen his father use one. Though whenever he tried to ask about it, his father would change the subject.

Uryuu's eyes widened with alarm and disbelief. "You're giving him a Quincy cross?!"

"Is that a problem?" Ryuuken asked, unconcerned.

_Yes…yes, it is…_ "But that one isn't suited for beginners," Uryuu argued as he tried to hide his nervousness. "Sensei didn't give me one like that until I've had at least two years of experience!"

"If it had been me, I wouldn't have given it to you at all," Ryuuken retorted offhandedly. "Don't compare yourself with him. He actually _has_ talent. I can tell."

Uryuu adjusted his glasses with agitation. "I thought you weren't interested in all this Quincy business."

Another small smirk graced the oldest Ishida's lips. "Perhaps. But maybe the potential I see in this child is enough to pique my interest." He returned his attention to Uriya, placing the cross in his hand. "I'll teach you how to use it later."

The boy blinked at the cross in his hand, happy to receive the gift. "Thank you, Jii-san."

Uryuu heaved an inward sigh. Despite his relationship…or more accurately, his _lack_ of a relationship…with his father, Ryuuken had actually been making an effort to show his face every now and then ever since Uriya had been born. After all, they did live rather far from Karakura for Ryuuken's visits to be considered just a casual pass by. And now, for him to even suggest teaching Uriya how to become a Quincy…it was certainly out of character. Uryuu's conclusion? Ryuuken was getting old. "Since you're here, you might as well come in," he said without enthusiasm as he began to head towards the house. "Tea or coffee?"

"I prefer wine," Ryuuken replied as he followed.

"Then go buy your own," Uryuu snapped as he twisted his lips, remembering the _other_ thing his father had also been making an effort to do: agitate him at every possible opportunity.

It was at this point that both men felt the sudden power flux behind them. As they turned around they were greeted by the sight of Uriya, Quincy cross in hand, surrounded by violently lashing tendrils of glowing blue-white light. Startled and wide-eyed, unsure what to do, the boy didn't dare make a move.

Uryuu panicked. His son was collecting reishi. A lot of it. Was he doing all this on instinct?! There were people nearby, so if he can't control it, this could get ugly. "Uriya! Let go of the—"

"Focus!" Ryuuken cut in.

The boy looked to his grandfather, somewhat uncertain. "How?"

"Imagine a bow in your mind," Ryuuken directed. "See it in your hand."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Uryuu protested. "He has no experience! He doesn't know how…"

Sure enough, the lashing waves of energy slowly calmed down, and manifested in the child's hand was a glowing white bow nearly twice as tall as the boy himself.

Ryuuken turned to give his son a condescending 'I told you so' smirk. "Talent."

Uryuu didn't know how to react. Was he surprised? Maybe. Was he proud? Yes. Was he scared? Very much so.

Truth was, he'd been trying to delay, if not all together prevent, Uriya from developing his Quincy powers. Perhaps he was simply being paranoid, but the warning he received from Urahara Kisuke on the day his son was born had done nothing but haunt him over the years. His son was Ulquiorra, the former fourth Espada, and he might someday remember that fact. Both claims were ludicrous, and ninety-nine percent of Uryuu didn't believe it. However, there was that one percent that kept nagging in the back of his mind, making him fear the possibility. What if it was true? What would Uriya do if he remembers? How would it affect their relationship? Uryuu didn't want to find out, so he tried to shield the boy from anything that might trigger his memory. Power and fighting were most definitely among those things.

Uryuu could still remember how his grandfather, Souken, used to tell him that one day he would understand Ryuuken's thinking and what it was that the man wanted to protect. It wasn't until he became a father himself that he felt he was beginning to reach that understanding. How ironic that, now that he had come to this realization, Ryuuken was the one to come and offer Uriya the Quincy powers he had once so detested. Perhaps this was another one of those progression things, and Uryuu will have to wait until he became a grandfather himself to truly understand.

While Uryuu was lost in thought, Uriya had already joined their side, his bow dispersed. Looking up at his grandfather, he asked, "Does this mean that I can be like Tou-san?"

Ryuuken placed a hand on the boy's head and laughed lightly. It was that kind of polite laugh befitting a gentleman, yet, tinged with a subtle sense of mockery. "Of course not, my boy. It means that you can be much _better_ than your father."

Uryuu narrowed his eyes at the older man. "I think you should leave."

**…ISHIDA URIYA – AGE FIVE – QUINCY…**

* * *

(Ginjo – Age seven)

"Kon! Get back here before I beat the stuffing outta you!" Ginjo yelled as he bolted down the hallway and chased the stuffed animal down the stairs.

The sight of a moving, talking, non-battery-powered doll would have freaked out any average person. However, since Ginjo had grown up with Kon around, he never really thought much of it. In fact, with the ability to see spirits, a pair of shinigami parents, a high and mighty uncle who lived in a different dimension, and his mother being the only person in their entire household with naturally _normal_ colored hair, there was quite a bit in Ginjo's life he had never given much thought to that would have been completely unbelievable to an average person.

Either way, Ginjo didn't really care about any of that. All he knew at the moment was that the sneaky little stuffed lion was running off with his handheld video game. And right when he was about to kick the big boss's butt, too! How could he not get mad?! Ok…so, maybe he _did_ play again when it was supposed to be Kon's turn, but that was just a minor detail. "Give it back, Kon, or I'll throw you in the washing machine again!"

Kon gave an involuntary shiver. The washing machine ride was definitely not one of his fondest memories. Sure, he came out smelling much fresher than he had in years, but the dizziness and drowning experience that went with it was something he could certainly do without. "No, you lying twerp! It's my turn!" He picked up speed and disappeared around a corner.

When Ginjo turned the corner, he lost sight of his target. _Darn it!_ The boy scowled. He didn't like to play hide and seek.

As the boy passed by the kitchen, he caught sight of his sister standing on the tip of her toes on a chair that had been pushed up against the counter, trying to reach for something in the upper cabinets. "Oi, Himeko. What're you doing?" he asked as he entered.

"Getting a snack," the girl replied without turning around.

He folded his arms as he stood beside her. "Next time, tell me and I'll get it for you. You fell and hit your head last time."

"But I'm taller now," she said, still reaching to no avail.

"That happened yesterday," he deadpanned.

Himeko didn't respond. When she suddenly felt her brother's arms snake around her midsection, she shrieked. "Gin-chan!!"

Ginjo hoisted the girl off the chair and placed her back on the floor. Then he stepped up onto the chair himself. "What do you want?"

"The animal crackers," she said, pointing to where the box was on the top shelf.

He got the box and held it out to her…holding it just out of her reach. "Call me Ginjo."

Himeko stood on the tip of her toes again with both arms held up over her head, trying to get the box. "Gin-chan."

"Ginjo."

"Gin-chan!"

"Ginjo!"

She was beginning to pout. Her brows were doing that 'trying to scowl' thing that made it seem like she was about to cry.

Ginjo rolled his eyes. "Here." He handed the box over and jumped off the chair. "I swear, you're harder to train than a dog."

"Thanks, Gin-chan!" Himeko said, all smiles again as she turned to open the cabinet door to where all the condiments were kept.

"Don't put anything weird on it," he told her with a frown.

"Oh, it's just honey and soy sauce," she replied, half distracted as she poked her head into the cupboard.

Ginjo's stomach did a flip flop just from hearing it. He couldn't understand why she never got sick from the stuff she ate. But anyway, it was time to get back to his mission. "Hey, have you seen Kon?"

"Hm?" she said as her head reappeared, completely unaware of the situation. "Yeah, he's under the dining table." She pointed.

Ginjo whipped around and, sure enough, there he was. "Found you!"

"AH!" Kon sped out of there as fast as his soft and squishy legs would take him, game console in hand, sniffling as he ran. _Sweet Himeko-chan…how could you betray me so?!_

Ginjo gave chase and eventually made a lunge and tackled Kon to the living room floor. Since the boy was much bigger and stronger than the stuffed animal, once he caught up, it didn't take long to reclaim his prize.

After getting the game console ripped out of his hands, Kon placed distance between himself and the boy by jumping onto the couch. With one paw on his hip and the other one pointing at Ginjo, he began to rant. "Hn! You ungrateful little devil! I used to babysit you when you were still sucking on your thumbs! You need to call me Kon-sama! Or at least Uncle Kon! I changed your diapers! Do you know how hard it was to wash your poop off my paws?! Where's my respect?! Where's my thanks?! Where's my…" He suddenly lost steam when he saw Ginjo slowly approaching with a practically murderous look on his features.

Kon learned something invaluable that day: saying embarrassing things about Kurosaki Ginjo was bad for his health.

He felt the boy's heel driving into his bright yellow tummy before he saw it. Next thing he knew, he was sandwiched between a foot and the back of the couch. In fact, the attack was so strong that the little green pill in which Kon's soul truly resided was forced out of the lion's mouth. When Ginjo removed his foot, the stuffed lion fell limp and silent.

Ginjo picked up the little pill and frowned at the lion that was now faced down on the couch. "Kon, you jerk! Are you stealing my candy, too?!" He had a personal stash he kept in his room. He looked at the pill again. "This one's my favorite kind!" Without a second thought…never mind that it had just been in someone else's mouth…Ginjo popped the pill into his mouth.

Just like that, his soul was pushed out of his body, fully clad in shinigami robes, complete with a zanpakutou at his waist. He looked at himself with wide eyes. Then he looked at his _other_ self with even wider eyes. "Wh…what just happened?"

Kon, now in Ginjo's body, stared with dropped jaws at the boy's shinigami form. "You idiot! What did you do?!" he screamed, waving his arms dramatically.

"I didn't do anything!" Ginjo hollered back. "I just ate a piece of candy!"

"That wasn't candy, stupid! That was _me_!" As soon as those words came out of Kon's mouth, he regretted it. He shouldn't have said that… He _really_ shouldn't have said that. Since Ichigo had taken to using the badge Ukitake had given him as a means to get out of his body, Ginjo never knew the true nature of Kon's existence. He never knew that Kon was a mod soul, and it was in everyone's best interest that this fact be kept from the boy.

At that moment, Ichigo barged in. With Kon and Ginjo going at it all the time, he often felt like he had three kids instead of just two. "What's all the ruckus?!"

As soon as Ichigo laid eyes on the pair of twins, his first reaction was to blink…just to make sure he wasn't seeing things. When the double vision didn't go away, his next reaction was to grab his temples and begin the by now familiar one-handed headache-reducing massage technique with his fingers. His third reaction: "RUKIA!! We need the glove! …Now!"

Rushed footsteps could be heard coming from the second floor. Once she got halfway down the stairs, Rukia grabbed onto the railing and locked her shocked eyes with Ichigo's. "Tell me you don't mean what I think you mean."

The orange-haired man sighed tiredly. "He's…out."

She closed her eyes and took a moment to compose herself. Then she immediately bolted back up the stairs.

They both knew that something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. They had just really hoped that it would be later. The boy was already a handful while inside his body. They didn't need him running amok _outside_ of it as well. The only comforting thing about seeing Ginjo's spirit was that it at least came out…normal. No mask. No partial mask. For that, Ichigo was thankful.

By now, Ginjo had already moved from shocked mode to utterly excited mode and was marveling at his very own zanpakutou with awe. He was a shinigami! _Forget the video game. This is way better! _He was more than ready to go test out his powers. "Time to go find me some hollows!"

The boy was about to jump out the window when Ichigo caught him by the back of his collar. "You're not going anywhere!"

Ginjo struggled as he protested. "Hey, what's the big idea?! Let me go!"

At this point, Rukia returned with the black glove already on her hand. Her eyes zeroed in on Kon.

Kon made a run for her with tears in his eyes, hoping for at least a sympathy embrace. "Neeeeeeee-saaaaaaaaan!!"

However, all Rukia did in return was smack the heel of her palm to his forehead, forcing his soul out of her son's body. After breaking the child's fall and setting him on the floor, she picked up the little green pill and placed it back into the lion's mouth.

Without wasting another moment, Ichigo picked up the kicking, screaming, and zanpakutou waving Ginjo and basically shoved him back into his body.

As soon as Ginjo regained his bearings, he jumped back to his feet and glared at his father with a string of why-can't-I's ready to shoot off, but Ichigo beat him to the punch.

"Listen, Ginjo!" the man said firmly, leaning down so that his face was only inches away from the boy's. "You're not to leave your body again without permission. Do you understand me?" While most parents told their kids to stay in their rooms, he was telling his to stay in his body. Ichigo was sure he would have found it funny if he wasn't the one living it.

"Why not?!" the boy inquired. "You do it all the time!"

"You're too young, and you can't get yourself back into your body on your own," Ichigo argued. "It's too dangerous!"

"But—"

"No buts!"

Father and son entered into a scowling contest.

Eventually, Ginjo folded his arms and plopped his bottom on the floor, scowling twice as hard. It was his way of silently conceding without losing too much face.

Ichigo heaved an inward sigh, resisting the urge to grab his temples again.

Rukia stepped out of the living room and beckoned Ichigo to follow with a wave of her hand. As they walked away together, she placed a comforting arm around his waist. The poor guy looked like he needed it. "I thought that went pretty well."

He gave her a skeptical look. "It could have been worse, I guess," he replied as he draped an arm around her shoulder.

She smirked. "You think he'll listen?"

Ichigo snorted and closed his eyes with a shake of his head. "…not a chance."

Back in the living room, once his parents were out of sight, Ginjo turned his attention to Kon.

The stuffed animal, who had been silently standing off to the side, flinched when the boy grabbed him and brought him to his face.

Ginjo grinned a grin that was almost too sadistic for a child his age. "From now on…you and I are gonna be best friends."

Kon gulped. "…he…help me…"

**…KUROSAKI GINJO – AGE SEVEN – SHINIGAMI…**

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the great response to the first chapter! I was really surprised! And happy! LOL!

Ukita/Uriya doesn't seem to have much luck with mothers. I'm not trying to be purposely mean (especially the 2nd go round), but I just don't see it in my head. I had always envisioned it as just Uryuu and Uriya. Also, I couldn't find a suitable candidate from the existing list of characters, and I didn't want to create a character. Therefore, she will remain nameless and faceless. (Sorry, AllenxWalker'sxEnemy!)

Most of you probably know this, but just in case: Tou-san means father. Jii-san means grandfather. I thought "dad" seemed a bit casual for the Ishidas, but it also sounded awkward for Uriya to address Uryuu as "father". So, in the end I settled for the Japanese terms.

I keep saying I'll be doing other things, but then somehow ended up working on this again. But seriously, I really _am_ going to go work on other things now. LOL!

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	3. Lessons Learned?

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo, but…I should at least be able to claim Ukita, right?

* * *

**Third Glimpse: Lessons Learned?**

(Uriya – Age seven)

When most fathers and sons go on weekend camping trips, activities generally include things like telling ghost stories around the campfire, hunting for various animals, honing survival skills, and roasting marshmallows. When the Ishidas go on a camping trip, it really wasn't all _that_ different. Stories of the Quincies…which involved dead souls, and therefore ghosts…were told, invisible hole-sporting beasts were hunted if they happened to come around, archery skills were honed, and…although some may not believe it…marshmallows were also roasted.

These camping trips were something Uryuu tried to do as often as possible. After all, the wilderness was where Uriya could really let loose his Quincy powers without too much concern. The boy had taken to it so easily and quickly that it didn't take long before Uryuu's sense of pride had surged, making him forget why he had initially been so apprehensive of teaching the boy anything.

Since Uriya soaked up information like a sponge and was already more than capable with handling the bow, it was only natural for Uryuu to begin teaching him about the other tools and techniques used by the Quincies. This decision, however, was one that he will soon regret.

"…in that way, you can use reishi to help move your body like a puppet. And that's how it works," Uryuu said with a smile, wrapping up his explanation on Ransoutengai. He and his son were currently sitting on a log under the cool shades of the trees with an array of Quincy artifacts spread out between them.

Uriya took a moment to absorb what he had just heard. Using reishi as puppet strings sounded like an interesting idea, but he would remain skeptical until he could either witness it or try it himself. "Will I be able to do it?"

Uryuu smirked. "Ransoutengai is a high level technique not many have mastered. It's still a bit early for you. Maybe in a few years."

Silently, the boy wondered why his father bothered to give such a detailed explanation if it wasn't something that he could make use of any time soon. Uriya turned his attention to the various items on the log and picked up a small silver tube. "What's this?"

"That's a gintou," Uryuu replied. "Once you've filled them up with spirit energy, they can be used for all kinds of offensive techniques. And when used together with Seele Schneider, you can perform a particularly destructive technique called Sprenger." He picked up a Seele Schneider and the blade-like arrow came to life in his hand, glowing with a low hum.

Uriya stared at the glowing arrow. Although his father continued to explain about gintou's various other techniques, the boy had already stopped listening. He had been interested enough in the things that his father had been teaching him about the Quincies the past two years. This, however, was the first time he truly felt fascinated. For Uriya…the world came to a stop when he laid eyes on Seele Schneider. "Is that a sword?" he inquired, cutting into his father's explanation.

Uryuu blinked at the question. "Of course not. Quincies are archers. We don't use swords. This is an arrow. However, it _can_ cut like a blade."

The boy picked up another Seele Schneider, turning it over in his hands. Following his father's example, he held it like the hilt of a sword and eventually figured out how to make the glowing 'blade' appear. After taking a moment to inspect its peculiar vibrations, he got to his feet and began to swing it experimentally as though testing the weight and flow of the weapon. Uriya wasn't sure why, but it just felt natural to be swinging a blade like this and he rather liked it. "Tou-san? May I keep this for a while?" he asked as he continued to test swing Seele Schneider.

"Well…sure…" Uryuu said, but there was a tone of uncertainty in his voice that didn't quite match up with his words. The boy, however, didn't seem to even notice. Although Uryuu was glad that his son was finally displaying real interest in something, the fact that it was Seele Schneider of all things troubled him. A Quincy wielding a sword…wasn't that somewhat blasphemous in a way? Was Uriya taking to it because, at one time, he used to own a zanpakutou? Seeing how the boy was handling the weapon like second nature, Uryuu wouldn't be surprised if that had something to do with it.

Uryuu heaved a sigh. Perhaps he was thinking too much. Uriya was still a child, and children had short attention spans. He will probably get bored of it after a while.

* * *

(Three months later)

Uryuu stood on the porch and watched as his son practiced his swings with Seele Schneider in the backyard...again. The boy was so attached to the weapon that it was practically an extension of his arm, throwing the whole 'children had short attention spans' theory completely out the window. Simply put, it was time for Uryuu to worry. "Uriya…are you done with that, yet?"

Uriya stopped and turned to look at his father. Then he looked again at the weapon in his hand and nodded.

Uryuu breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"I'm done testing," the boy said. "And I think…I'd like to keep it. May I, Tou-san?"

"Bu…but…we're Quincies," Uriya began, starting to fret now. "We shouldn't be wielding swords."

Uriya blinked. "But this isn't a sword. It's an arrow."

Uryuu felt something akin to a stab in the stomach. Why did the boy's words have to make so much sense? He wanted to say no, but in truth, he didn't really have a valid reason to do so. Uriya was such a good boy, and he asked so nicely. Did he have the heart, or the right, to deny the child this one thing? The only thing he ever really asked for? "Of course. It's yours," he replied, silently commending himself for managing the small smile on his face.

Uriya stared at his father for a moment as though contemplating something. "Tou-san? Is there a rule that says Quincies aren't allowed to use swords?"

Uryuu hesitated then sighed with a shake of his head. "No." That wasn't really the point though.

"Then may I take sword lessons?"

That question kicked Uryuu's feet out from beneath him, and he dropped to his hands and knees.

Uriya's eyes widened a bit in surprise as he began to make his way towards his father, somewhat concerned. "Tou-san, are you all right?"

Uryuu held up a shaky hand, his head still hanging. "Yes, I'm…fine." Though his eyes were dry, he was in fact crying an internal river. "Why do you want to take lessons?"

"Because I think I might be good at it," Uriya replied, simple and blunt, as he began to swing Seele Schneider through the air once again. "And I like it."

To Uryuu, those words were like a ton of bricks crushing down on his soul. He really shouldn't have asked. "I'll…I'll see what I can find."

The boy gave a small smile. "Thank you, Tou-san." That said, he returned to practicing his swings, unaware of the emotional trauma he had just inflicted on his father.

As his son walked off, Uryuu crumbled the rest of the way to the floor. Uriya may be a quick study when it came to his Quincy powers, but…the boy definitely needed a _lot_ more work where his Quincy pride was concerned.

* * *

(Ginjo – Age eight)

Rukia sat patiently at the dining table as she watched her son who was sitting across from her try to glare a hole into the sheet of paper before him. "Well? Have you figured out the answer, yet?"

That only made Ginjo glare harder. He hated math. Addition and subtraction were annoying enough, but what's the deal with this multiplication business? He had probably been staring at the first question for an hour by now…at least, that was what it felt like to him anyway. What was three times five? Well…if he looked at the multiply symbol, it really just looked like a plus sign that had fallen over. He picked up his pencil and wrote in his answer: eight.

Rukia raised a brow. "You're supposed to multiply, not add."

"It looks like a plus sign to _me_," the boy retorted flatly.

She slumped her shoulders with a sigh. Then an idea hit her and she brightened. "Ah! I know." She grabbed a notebook off the table, flipped to a blank page, and began to scribble in it. "What you need now is…visual aid." She held up the notebook to show the boy what she had scribbled: a page of Chappy heads arranged into three rows with five heads per row.

Ginjo stared at it with quirked brows and a frown. "What's that?"

"The answer to your question," Rukia said with a smile. "See. Three…" She gestured to the three rows. "…times five." She pointed out the five Chappys in her rows.

"No, the thing you drew," he clarified. "What is it?"

Rukia raised her brows. "You don't recognize Chappy the Rabbit?"

Ginjo scowled at the so-called rabbits, confused. "Are you sure…they're not…bears?"

Rukia deflated. Her own son couldn't appreciate her works of art. "Well, that's not the important part," she said, trying to brush it off. "The important part is the numbers."

The boy, however, was too distracted by the unidentifiable animals. "Then…do the different colors have something to do with the math problem?"

"Uh…well…" She looked off to the side. "No." She had just randomly colored in the rabbits to make them look pretty.

From somewhere behind Ginjo, snickering sounds could be heard.

Rukia looked up to find Ichigo leaning against the doorframe with a cup of tea in his hand, trying to stifle his laugh. Though his lips didn't say anything, the twinkle in his eyes was definitely telling her, "See! I'm not the _only_ one who thinks your drawings suck." She grumbled with a frown then picked up a marker and hurled it at the cocky bastard.

The marker hit Ichigo in the eye. "OW!" His hand flew up to cover his now tearing eye.

Oblivious until that final 'ow', Ginjo whipped around in his chair to see what was going on behind him. "Do it again, mom! I missed it!"

Rukia was all too happy to comply. Picking up another marker, she repeated her attack. This time it got Ichigo's other eye, making him scream once more.

The boy laughed at his father's expense. "Nice shot!"

Ichigo scowled at both of them. Then to Rukia, he said, "Fine…I'll just let _you_ handle it." He gave a grin before walking away. "Heh…good luck."

* * *

Thirty pages of deformed rabbits later, Ginjo walked out even more confused than when he started. In the end, he simply told his mother that he understood just so he could get out of there. He was definitely not looking forward to the Chappy nightmares he was probably going to have that night.

As he passed by the living room, he heard his father call out to him.

"Psst! Ginjo." Ichigo beckoned the boy with a wave of his hand. He had actually been waiting for him.

With his books and papers clutched in his arms, Ginjo walked in looking absolutely drained and disgruntled.

Ichigo took a notebook and a pencil out of the boy's hands. "Listen, Ginjo. When you multiply, it really just means you add the same number together so many times. So, three times five just means five…plus five…plus five," he said as he wrote out the equation. "Or, you can do it the other way and add three together five times. Three…plus three…plus three…plus three…plus three." He handed the notebook back to the boy. "Try adding them up. You'll get the same answer."

Ginjo frowned at the numbers. It looked so much easier now. "If multiplying is the same as adding, then why the heck did they make up multiplying?"

Ichigo shrugged. "It saves space…and time."

"It didn't save _me_ any time," the boy replied wryly. "Stupid teacher…he should have just explained it like this."

"I'm sure he did," Ichigo said with a smirk, "but _you_ probably just weren't listening." He jabbed a finger to his son's forehead.

Ginjo grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. He had no response to make, because his father was right and he knew it. To him, math class was basically snack time. Everything just went in one ear and out the other anyway, so why bother listening? His energy was better spent gauging when the teacher was going to look away long enough for him to put food in his mouth without being noticed.

Just then, Rukia's voice rang down the hallway. "Ginjo! Come look at this! You'll understand for sure!" Even though he had told her that he understood, she didn't see the look of comprehension on his face. So, she thought about it a bit more and figured out how to get it through to him: with color-coded Chappy heads, one color per row. That will do the trick for sure!

The boy's eyes widened as he quickly hid himself behind the couch Ichigo was sitting on.

Rukia poked her head into the living room. "Ichigo, have you seen Ginjo?"

Ichigo eyed the sketchpad in her hand. "Yeah. He was here a minute ago," he said casually as he leaned back in the couch and sighed. "I have to say, I'm surprised. It looks like he understood."

Rukia blinked. Then her surprised look turned into a gloating sort of grin. Even though she didn't speak, her beaming eyes were telling Ichigo, "See! Told you I could do it! My drawings are indisputable works of art!"

Ichigo rolled his eyes.

"All right then," Rukia said with a satisfied smile. "I'll go check and see how Himeko's doing on her homework." With that, she disappeared and went upstairs, her sketchpad at the ready.

From behind the couch, Ginjo breathed a sigh of relief. "You're not gonna go save Himeko?"

"Well…that's probably not necessary," Ichigo mused as he scratched his face, remembering some of the weird drawings Orihime used to do for their art class in high school. "As far as artistic senses go…those two are pretty much on the same wavelength."

* * *

A/N: Sprenger is the move Ishida pulled on Szayel while Renji stalled him. Hmm…I think that's about it for notes this round. Haha!

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	4. Bedtime Stories

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. Genji belongs to me.

* * *

**Fourth Glimpse: Bedtime Stories**

(Ginjo – Age nine)

"…and he held her hands in his as he looked into her mesmerizing blue eyes. 'Aiko…from this day on, we will be together forever and ever. Nothing will ever tear us apart again!'… 'Nothing, Jiro?' Aiko asked with sparkling eyes… 'Yes. Absolutely nothing.'… 'Not even the weird way my eye twitches after I've cried too much?' she asked, batting her eyes with a blush… 'Yes, my love, not even that,' Jiro said sincerely, and Aiko couldn't help but melt under his super deluxe mega-watt smile. 'No matter what happens, Aiko, even if the sky should fall, I will _always_ love you.'… Aiko gasped as her hands flew to her cheeks. 'You will love?'… 'Yes'… 'Love me?'… 'Yes, you'… She began to cry tears of joy. 'Oh, Jiro! I'm so happy!' And fireworks began to shoot up into the night sky above as Jiro and Aiko looked deeply into each other's eyes, inching closer…and closer…and closer…and…" Rukia paused with a blink. "Hmm?"

She looked up from her reading when she detected motion coming from the lump under the covers in the bed before her. Getting up out of her chair, she placed the book on the bedside table and sat at the edge of the bed. She pulled back the covers a little so she could check on her sick child. "Ginjo, are you all right?" she asked gently with concern as she placed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. "You're shivering."

Ginjo was currently sick as a dog, running a high fever. He didn't get sick often, but when he got sick, he got _sick_. Still, the boy was pretty certain that his current shivering had absolutely nothing to do with his sickness. "Mom…" he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes half closed. "You're not helping…stop reading…_please_…"

Rukia sighed. He was actually pleading. He must be sicker than she thought. "Well, I just thought I'd read you a story to keep you company," she said as she brushed back his bangs.

"I'm nine," he said with a half-powered scowl. "I don't need bedtime stories." The stories she read had the ability to give him nightmares as well as nightlong shivers even in the hottest nights of summer. He had actually been immensely grateful when she had finally stopped reading bedtime stories, because that was when he learned the true meaning of peaceful slumber.

Rukia chuckled lightly at his complaint. She always felt helpless whenever her children became ill. The only thing she could think of to do was to read them stories to keep them entertained while they were stuck in bed all day. But she supposed her boy probably _was_ getting a bit old for it. "Fine, fine," she said as she got to her feet. "It's still early, so, I'll send your sister in to keep you company for a while."

After his mother closed the door behind her, Ginjo sighed. By sending his sister in here, wasn't she just trading one annoyance for another? Why couldn't they just let him curl up and be sick in peace? It must be some sort of payback for all the trouble he caused on a regular basis.

Before long, the door opened again and Himeko stepped in with a notebook in her hands. "How are you feeling, Gin-chan?" she asked as she pulled the chair closer to her brother's bedside and settled into it. When all he did was blink tiredly back at her and didn't even try to correct her on his name, she realized he must be _really_ sick. "Um…well…mom said I should spend some time with you, so I thought I'd read you a story! Because that's what mom always does whenever I got sick. Um…is that ok?" she asked hesitantly.

Ginjo rolled his eyes at half the usual speed. He knew it. "Fine…whatever…"

"OK!" She brightened as she flipped open her notebook and began to read. "The Clown and the Cat. Once upon a time, there was a boy and a cat that were the best of friends. They grew up together and played together and got along really well. They were happy. But then one day, the guy who shows up in the shampoo commercials…who was actually a wizard in disguise…put a spell on them, and—"

"What?" Ginjo cut in with a confused frown. "A guy who shows up in…shampoo commercials?"

Himeko blinked. "Yeah. He shows up in shampoo commercials, but that's just a disguise. He's really a bad guy," she explained.

That didn't really make any more sense to Ginjo than it did the first time around.

"Anyway," Himeko said. "Continuing… the guy who shows up in the shampoo commercials, who was a wizard in disguise, put a spell on them and gave them amnesia. The boy turned into a sad clown, and the cat turned into…an angry cat."

"That's still just a cat, isn't it?" Ginjo asked.

"Yes, but it's _angry_ now," she replied as though that should have been obvious. "Stop interrupting!" She cleared her throat and continued to read. "The wizard made the sad clown and the angry cat into his slaves and made them work for him. And because the clown and the cat had amnesia, they forgot that they were best friends and started to fight with each other all the time. The cat always tried to pick fights with the clown, even though the clown always won, and they started to hate each other more and more. Then one day, their fairy godmother showed up! She had her little fairy assistants sprinkle fairy dust on the sad clown and the angry cat, and it cured their amnesia. The clown and the cat became friends again! They ran away from the wizard and lived happily ever after. The end!" She beamed proudly.

"That's the dumbest story I've ever heard," Ginjo said flatly.

"What?" She frowned with disappointment. "But why?"

"The cat's especially stupid," he continued to criticize. "I mean…picking fights with a _sad_ clown is sad enough. Losing just makes him more pathetic. Who wrote this story?"

Himeko gave a sad pout and looked away. "…nobody," she mumbled meekly.

Ginjo winced internally. _Crud. She wrote it._ He should have just kept his mouth shut. "Well…the cat's stupid, but…the fairy godmother's all right," he said, a bit too apathetically.

"Really?" she sniffled, not entirely convinced.

"Yeah," he sighed. "She's got…powers…and stuff."

"I like her, too!" she smiled. "But the sad clown is my favorite."

His sister had weird tastes, so Ginjo wasn't surprised.

"So, you like the story, right?" She looked at him hopefully, expectantly.

"Uh…well…" He averted his eyes. "It's better than mom's stories."

"Really?!"

"Yeah." He wasn't lying, though it wasn't much of a compliment either. "Himeko, I think I need to get some sleep now." He really was getting tired.

"Oh. Ok!" She hopped off the chair and headed for the door. "Goodnight, Gin-chan! Feel better!"

As soon as she disappeared, Kon poked his head out from his drawer: the one where he basically lived in. With folded arms, he shook his head and sighed. "Women…they just don't know what kind of stories would strike a boy's fancy."

He ducked back into his drawer and rummaged through his minimal belongings until he found the book he was looking for. "Aha! Here it is!" With the book in his paws, he hopped out of the drawer and onto Ginjo's bed, sitting on top of the boy. "Don't worry, Ginjo. Kon-sama will now tell you a story you will never forget! I got this book out of the neighbor's trash. It's called 'Alice in Wonderland: The Male Fantasy Version'!"

"Kon," Ginjo said without opening his eyes. "If you utter one word from that book…I'll staple your lips together as soon as I get better." Just from the name of the book, he couldn't really tell what kind of story it was. All he knew was that anything Kon liked were bound to be things he didn't like.

"But—"

"…and I'll flush your book down the toilet."

Even though the boy sounded tired, Kon didn't doubt his words. When it came to things like making Kon's life a living hell, Ginjo never made empty threats. The stuffed lion got back to his feet. "Hmph! Fine! Be that way! Don't come begging me to read it to you later!" He made his way back to his drawer, mumbling things about ungrateful brats as he went.

Finally, Ginjo was free to be miserably sick in peace. That peace, however, didn't last long before he started to hear his parents' muffled voices on the other side of the door.

"Rukia, we should just let him sleep."

"But he's been curled up in bed all day. He must be bored…and lonely."

"He's sick. That's what you do when you're sick."

"Just go in there, Ichigo! He'll heal faster if he's happier. And he likes it when _you_ do it."

Ginjo's eyes shot open. _Oh, no._ He immediately turned and faced the wall so that whoever walked in would only see his back. _I'm not interested. I'm nine. I'm not interested. I'm not interested. I'm not interested…_

The door swung open and Ichigo was pushed into the room. He heaved a sigh as he took a seat on the chair. He really did think that sleep was the best medicine, but he supposed this wouldn't hurt either. He leaned back into the chair and crossed his legs. One look at his son's back was enough to let him know that the boy was still awake. "Oi, Ginjo. Have I ever told you about the time I defeated Byakuya in battle?"

That one question…one _simple_ question…was all it took to shatter Ginjo's concentration as his internal 'I'm not interested' chant came to a complete stop. The boy peeked tentatively over his shoulder. "You? Defeated Byakuya-ji?"

Ichigo gave a slightly indignant scowl. "Hey, what's with that tone? It sounds like you don't believe me."

Ginjo was certainly skeptical. "You mean in like a _real_ battle? With your zanpakutou and everything?"

Ichigo folded his arms. "Of course, it was a real battle."

"But why would you even be fighting Byakuya-ji in a real battle?" the boy retorted as he rested his head back on the pillow again. "That makes no sense."

"To save your mom from execution," Ichigo replied casually.

"WHAT?!" Ginjo asked with disbelief as his head whipped around once more. "No way…"

"It's true. She was almost undeservedly executed in Soul Society."

"When did _this_ happen?!"

"Before you were born."

"…Why?"

"Well…" Ichigo scratched the back of his head. "Some jerk faked the order to have her executed for selfish gains. But that's a whole other story. Anyway, with Urahara-san's help and Yoruichi-san's guidance, I was able to go to the Soul Society for the first time. Chad went, too, along with a few others. We had to fight our way through Seireitei to get to your mom. And in the end, I faced and defeated Byakuya."

The boy turned back to face the wall again, not sure what to think. "...That still doesn't make sense. Shouldn't Byakuya-ji be on _your_ side?"

"He was a stuck up idiot back then," Ichigo replied promptly.

Ginjo let the story roll around in his head for a bit, temporarily forgetting how miserably sick he was. Then he finally turned his body around and faced his father. With a little smirk on his face, he said, "I think you're full of it."

Ichigo raised a brow. "What? You don't think I can take Byakuya?"

"He has Senbonzakura," the boy said dryly. "I mean…it sounds girly, but it's fast."

"Psh." Ichigo waved it off with a hand. "My bankai's way faster."

Ginjo still wasn't quite buying it. His high and mighty uncle losing to his father in battle…it sounded awesome, but it was hard to imagine. Still, it would be pretty cool if it was the truth. "Fine. If you want to convince me, then tell me _exactly_ how it happened. I want all the details."

Ichigo grinned. "Well then…maybe I should start by telling you how I kicked the battle off by stopping the execution at the last second and wrecking the scaffold."

Ginjo listened as his father told another one of his old war stories. When the boy finally fell asleep that night, his dreams were filled with shinigami battles valiantly fought in the Soul Society. However, that wasn't the only thing he dreamed of. There were also battles fought within a white castle in the middle of a desert. And, strangely enough, amongst the combatants…there was a sad clown.

* * *

The next morning, Ichigo caught Ginjo stepping groggily out of his bedroom and stopped him in the hallway. "How are you feeling, Ginjo?" he asked as he crouched before the child and placed a hand on his forehead. "Seems like your fever's gone down."

Still half asleep, Ginjo rubbed his eye with his hand. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?" Ichigo inquired as he ruffled the boy's hair.

"What's an Espada?"

Ichigo blanched, frozen solid as his eyes went wide. In all his storytelling over the years, he had never even _once_ mentioned that word. Ten seconds later, he suddenly bolted upright to his feet. "RUKIA!!"

* * *

A/N: Since Genji had zero family love, Ginjo's getting double to make up for it…even if it is kinda quirky. Heh…

Byakuya-ji…I'm not really sure if uncles really do get addressed in this manner or not. I've heard various short/informal forms of uncle, but I don't think I've ever come across "name" followed by just "ji". It _sounds_ plausible enough. And it's too cute, I can't give it up. LOL! Byakuya-ji…it's so informal. I bet Byakuya hates it. LOL!

Ever since Aizen tossed his glasses and took on that 'I'm suave' kind of look, it sort of feels like he should be selling hair products or something. Hence, "the guy who shows up in shampoo commercials." Haha!

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	5. Of Pride, of Guilt, of Love

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. Akari belongs to me.

* * *

**WARNING: **If you haven't read "Searching", this is probably where you'll get lost…

* * *

**Fifth Glimpse: Of Pride, of Guilt, of Love**

(Ginjo – Age nine)

Ginjo stomped down the street with purposeful strides. At this time of the day, he _should_ be in school. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he skipped classes. Usually, he would just wander down to a nearby store to get something to eat. However, today was different. There was something urgent he needed to do…someone he needed to see.

Over a period of two months, he had been plagued with an endless series of strange dreams. They were jumbled and disconnected, and they didn't make any sense to him. Of course, dreams were just dreams, and he knew they weren't supposed to make sense to begin with. Nonetheless, these recurring dreams were intense and felt unsettlingly real. It got to the point where he almost wished that he didn't need to sleep anymore.

Every time he closed his eyes he would see images of a pristine white castle in the middle of nowhere followed by flashes of a completely different castle engulfed in raging flames, surrounded by chaos. Shinigami battles fought in multiple dimensions intermixed with samurai wars waged in the wilderness of ancient times. Dreams of himself hunting human souls were unnerving. Dreams of himself consuming hollows were confusing. And dreams of himself attacking a younger version of his own father with pure bloodlust were extremely disturbing. But the most terrifying dreams were the ones where he found himself sitting alone on an abandoned hill, chained to a tree. The overwhelming feeling of hopelessness that came with it had been far more difficult to endure than any fear that the images of the violence and carnage of warfare had induced.

Through all the vivid nonsense, however, there had been a constant. Someone that he didn't know, but somehow felt very familiar. At times this person appeared as a child. At times he was an adult. Then there were times when he was something entirely…inhuman. Though his appearance may change, Ginjo knew it was the same person because no matter what form he took, he had the same intense green eyes. Eyes that commanded his attention and made him question…who was this person? Why was he dreaming about him? Why did he seem so significant even though he was nothing more than a figment of his imagination? It was frustrating.

Then this morning when he woke up, Ginjo finally had a name to go with those green eyes: Ukita. That name was like a key that unlocked everything in his mind and suddenly, all the pieces fell into place.

He remembered.

Now, he needed answers. Finally arriving at his destination, Ginjo pulled the sliding door open with a bang. "Urahara!"

The shop owner who was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, chin in hand with his elbow propped up on his leg as he dozed off from boredom opened his eyes at the unexpected guest. "Ginjo?" However, after taking a closer look at the glare in the boy's eyes, he smirked. "Or should I say…Grimmjow?"

Ginjo stomped over to the exiled shinigami and fisted his hands in the man's clothes. "Where's Ulquiorra?"

Urahara sighed dejectedly as he looked away. "After all these years of waiting for you to remember…and this is the kind of greeting I get?"

"Don't avoid the question," Ginjo pressed. "It's not like we were friends to begin with."

"That hurts," Urahara replied, staging a frown. "And after everything I've done for you…"

"Just answer the damn question!" the boy demanded impatiently, shoving Urahara slightly as he released his hold and took a step back. He wasn't in the mood for the man's usual antics.

Urahara adjusted his hat and took a moment to straighten out his clothes before speaking. "I can assure you that he _is _in the living world. But as to where…I don't know."

Ginjo deepened his scowl. "Don't play dumb. I'm here. _She's_ here. Then—"

"So, you assume that _he_ must also be here?" Urahara asked calmly, cutting him off.

Ginjo clenched his fists as he took a deep breath to rein in his frustrations. "No…but I think you know where he is." It was too much of a coincidence for himself and Orihime to end up as siblings, and as Kurosakis no less! Urahara must have had a hand in it. If that was the case, then he must also know where Ulquiorra was.

"If you recall, I believe my words at the time were '_you_ have to find each other'…not 'I will do it for you'," Urahara explained, matter of fact. "Instead of getting upset about it, shouldn't you be grateful that…by some stroke of luck…your work has already been cut in half? Not to mention, you retained the potential to regain all those 'bad ass powers' you had been so reluctant to give up." He grinned. "I'd say you got pretty lucky."

The boy grumbled. "That's another thing I need to know! How the hell did I end up being _his_ kid?!"

"Who knows?" Urahara replied, trying not to smirk. "I just put you back into the cycle. I had no control over where your soul would go."

"You're lying," Ginjo said with utmost certainty.

Urahara gave a light shrug. "You can believe what you want, but…is it really so bad? Up until today, you didn't seem to mind."

Ginjo resisted the urge to tear his own hair out. It wasn't just a matter of good or bad or whether he liked it or not. His situation was so much more complicated than Urahara was making it sound. "My old man…" he began, sounding much more solemn and hesitant as he stared at the floor. "Does he know?"

Urahara looked at the boy then smirked. "Ginjo…have you looked in a mirror lately?"

Ginjo placed a hand over his forehead and began to massage his temples with his fingers, subconsciously picking up the habit that his father had, ironically, developed because of him. Urahara had a point. He was practically a miniature version of his former self. His father would have to be a complete retard to not see the physical resemblance. Still, judging from his father's behavior towards him, it sure _seemed_ like he hadn't noticed. Was Kurosaki Ichigo even more brain dead than he had originally thought? Even if that was the case, shouldn't his mother notice at least? What did it all mean?

After watching the boy's internal struggle for a while, Urahara decided to help him out. "I told your parents who you were on the day you were born," he supplied in a serious but soft tone.

Ginjo's eyes widened as he looked up at Urahara, paralyzed with shock and disbelief.

"And although I didn't give them the details," Urahara continued, "I did warn them of the possibility that you might regain your memories at some point."

Ginjo was left completely speechless as his body went numb. _They…they knew all along?!_

Urahara smirked. "They're something else, aren't they? Your parents."

* * *

Ginjo had been wandering the streets aimlessly since he left Urahara Shouten. Before he knew it, day had turned into night, and he still hadn't worked up enough nerve to go home. He simply didn't know what he should do, how he should act, the next time he had to face them…Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia.

What Urahara said had baffled him to no end. They had known exactly who he was from the very beginning. Yet, Ginjo had never felt even an ounce of hate or resentment from either one of them. Quite the contrary, they had been nothing but the best parents anyone could really ask for. How was that possible?

When he was Grimmjow, he had pursued his father with every intention of tearing him to pieces in the worst possible way. And his mother…his mother. Did she forget that he had greeted her by gutting her with his bare hand the very first time they met? Sure, he wasn't _entirely_ himself at the time, but that was no excuse. So, why did they treat him so well? Why?!

On some level, he almost wished that they wouldn't have. That way, at least he wouldn't feel so conflicted, and this unbearable sense of guilt that was swelling and quickly festering within could perhaps disappear. It might have been better if he hadn't remembered…at least not so soon. 'Innocence is bliss' had never felt more true…

"Ginjo!"

The boy froze at the sound of his father's voice from behind.

Ichigo caught up to his son, not looking the least bit happy. "I've been looking all over for you! Do you know what time it is? Where the heck have you been?!"

Ginjo looked up at Ichigo then quickly averted his eyes. "Nowhere."

"Your mother's worried sick that something might have happened to you!"

"What? You didn't think I'd get kidnapped or something, did you?" The less than half-hearted delivery of his cheeky retort was definitely lacking its usual punch.

"No, it's not people we're worried about," Ichigo said flatly. _Actually, I'd feel sorry for the poor bastard who tries to kidnap you._ "How many times do I have to tell you that your level of reiatsu attracts hollows?" Since he didn't take Kon with him, he'd be a sitting duck if any should attack.

"I know how to mask my reiatsu, remember?" Ginjo replied dully, still avoiding Ichigo's eyes. "Otherwise you would have found me sooner, wouldn't you?"

Ichigo blinked, finally taking note of the boy's strange mood and behavior. Normally, he would get defensive and argue like a firecracker no matter what. However, right now he seemed more like a firecracker that had been soaked in water. "Ginjo, is something wrong?"

"…no. Let's just go." Ginjo shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking. This was…awkward, and he simply didn't know how to handle himself. Did he deserve to be worried about like this? Certainly, not by this man.

Ichigo watched his son's retreating back for a bit then got out his cell phone and called home. "I found him, Rukia…He's…" He looked at the boy again then closed his eyes with a sigh. "He's fine…Yeah…We're on our way."

* * *

It was a bit of a process trying to get past his concerned mother and her onslaught of questions upon returning home. After all, Ginjo didn't have any answers to offer. Surprisingly, his father provided him with an escape route by saying that it was way past his bedtime and sent him upstairs.

On his way back to his room, Ginjo paused outside his sister's bedroom door. After a moment's contemplation, he opened the door and entered her room.

Standing by her bedside, he watched her sleep. _Akari…_

She was two years younger than he was. Did it mean that he would have to wait another two years before she would remember anything? He himself had only just regained his memories, and he wondered if Ulquiorra had remembered anything, yet. But even if he had, they were all still only children at this point. There wasn't a whole lot they could do. He didn't like it but…he had no choice but to wait.

Ginjo sat on the floor and leaned his back and head against Himeko's bed with a tired sigh. _This is too much shit for a nine-year-old…_

* * *

The next day, after dinner, Ginjo went outside and sat on the front steps of the house, welcoming the quiet solitude.

The day went by relatively normally. He didn't pull another disappearing act and was grateful that, for whatever odd reason, nobody questioned him further about the one he pulled the day before. He went to school as usual, came home as usual, did some homework, did some training. A normal day.

It wasn't like he could just erase the past nine years with his family and snap back into his previous mindset. And since Himeko was here, leaving was not an option either. But the crazy thing was…he wasn't sure that he really wanted things to be any different.

Once Ginjo realized that, it made him even more uncomfortable on multiple levels. By just _thinking_ that he didn't mind being related to the man whom he used to consider his prey, wasn't that the equivalent of wadding up his pride and flushing it down the toilet? By wanting to maintain their current relationship despite knowing that he didn't deserve any of it, didn't that make him pathetic? Nevertheless, he made the effort to go through the day as normally as possible, thinking that if he could keep up the charade and pretend like he hadn't remembered anything about his past life, then perhaps…things could continue as they were.

With his arms resting on his knees, he hung his head and gave a humorless laugh. _Damn it… How did I become such a wuss?_

"Oi, Grimmjow."

Those words shocked Ginjo so much, he literally bolted to his feet as he whirled around to find his father leaning casually against the doorframe, watching him with folded arms. Ginjo didn't even want to know how long he'd been standing there.

Ichigo sniggered lightly at the boy's reaction. "So, you do remember."

"How'd you…" the boy began, dumbfounded.

"Idiot. Who the heck raised you?" Unfolding his arms, Ichigo revealed that he had actually been holding a can of soda in each hand. Tossing one to Ginjo, he went and took a seat on the steps. "You've been acting all weird. I knew something was up." Opening his can of soda, he took a sip.

Ginjo scowled, dissatisfied that the man had seen through him. Feeling defeated but too proud to show it, he went and sat at the other end of the steps as he opened his can of soda as well.

A tense silence took over as each dwelled on his thoughts.

Ichigo pretty much knew that this day was coming. Ever since Ginjo asked him what an Espada was, he had been mentally preparing himself. Then yesterday, when the boy had lost the ability to look him in the eye…to him, it was all too obvious what the reason was.

He and Rukia both knew from the start that, if Ginjo was going to remember, there really wasn't anything they could do to prevent it. All they could do was be the best parents they knew how to be and hope that, if he should remember, their efforts will have some influence on his decisions…that years of love and nurture might be enough to undo the rivalry that had built up between them based on a mere handful of chance meetings. The rest was really up to the boy.

"Ginjo. Do you know why your mom gave you that name?" Ichigo asked.

"Cuz she has a sick sense of humor?" Ginjo replied dryly.

Ichigo laughed. "That's what I thought at first, too, but…she says it's because a silver dawn is like a new beginning. One filled with potential." He reflected on that for a moment. "I guess it was a new beginning for all of us."

This was the first time Ginjo learned of the meaning of his name. He supposed he wouldn't have understood it had he been told before today. On one hand, he could really appreciate the true meaning behind it. On the other hand, this was definitely the kind of mush he'd label as lame with a capital 'L'. Even if he did like it, he would never _ever_ admit it. "If anyone ever asks…I think I'll just stick with the 'sick sense of humor' explanation."

Ichigo chuckled lightly as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. "So anyway…in anticipation of the _possible_ return of your former personality, I've been carrying this around with me for years." He flipped open his wallet and a whole string of photos came tumbling out like an accordion.

When Ginjo got a good look at the photos, he choked on his soda. "What the heck is this?!" he asked after recovering from a coughing fit.

"What does it look like?" Ichigo asked with a mischievous grin. "They're embarrassing baby pictures of you."

'Embarrassing' didn't even begin to describe it. "Wh…what's with the stupid ears?!"

"Heh…they're not just stupid ears. They're stupid _bunny_ ears. You can thank your mother's obsession with Chappy the Rabbit. You must have had at _least_ ten different colored hats with bunny ears on them."

"Well, don't keep it on you at all times! That's just creepy!"

"I'm a parent. That's what parents do," Ichigo said with a light shrug. "But in your case, it serves a purpose: if you don't behave yourself, I'll show these to the world." Not that the world hadn't already been exposed to Ginjo's bunny-eared appearance, but he didn't need to know that.

Ginjo scowled as he snatched the string of photos from his father. "Give me that! I can't believe you'd blackmail your own son!" He began to pull the photos from the plastic covers so he could destroy them.

Ichigo smiled. The boy still thought of himself as his son. "Do you think I'm stupid? I have copies, you know."

Ginjo grumbled with frustration then shoved the photos back to Ichigo, dissatisfied. "You didn't need to take so many pictures," he said between clenched teeth.

"Oh, this is nothing," Ichigo replied with an air of nonchalance. "We've got at least three albums devoted to pictures of you in bunny ears."

"WHAT?!" Ginjo's eyes just about popped out of their sockets. "I've never seen anything like that!"

"That's because you never look at the photo albums," Ichigo deadpanned.

The boy swiped a hand down his face. "…this is definitely child abuse."

Ichigo chuckled then took another sip out of his drink. "How old are you, Ginjo? Nine?" He paused a moment and gave that some thought. "Those were nine damn good years."

Ginjo snickered. "I can't believe you'd use that kind of language in front of your kid. Shouldn't you be more considerate of my virgin ears?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Virgin ears my ass. What's the point in holding back now that you remember? Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was like a swearing machine. You swore way more than I did."

Ginjo couldn't help but laugh. Then he stared down at his hands. "You remember the down payment I gave you?"

Ichigo glanced sideways at the boy. "Was I supposed to forget?"

"Sorry, but…you gotta wait a couple more years," Ginjo said, eyes still on his hands. "My arms and legs aren't long enough, yet."

Ichigo grinned. "Bring it. But…you should be a kid for a while longer." He placed a hand on the boy's head and ruffled his hair.

Ginjo scowled at that gesture and lashed his arms out to attack. However, since Ichigo was holding him at arm's length with a palm to his forehead, he couldn't quite reach. It was a perfect demonstration of the disadvantages of his shorter limbs. "Damn it!"

At this point, Ichigo got back to his feet. "Take your time," he said as he started to head back into the house. "I'm not going anywhere."

Alone once again, Ginjo took a deep breath as he leaned back on his hands and stared up at the sky. _Nine damn good years, huh?_

* * *

Ginjo walked into the kitchen. As he had expected, his mother was standing by the sink, in the process of cleaning up after dinner. "Stop."

Rukia turned to the boy, raising her brows in query. "Stop?"

"I'll do it," he declared apathetically.

That was so out of the blue that Rukia had trouble comprehending. "What?"

"The dishes," he clarified as he folded his arms, trying to keep up his attitude even though he was offering to help. "I'll do it."

She was a bit stunned and wasn't sure what's gotten into him. "Are…are you sure? But you've never done it before."

"Psh. This is nothing." He couldn't help but mock. He and Ukita used to scrub an entire castle's worth of dishes with their hands at an even younger age. Loading four people's worth of dishes into a _dishwasher_ could hardly be considered work.

"Rukia. This is the first time he's ever offered to do anything. You should let him do it."

Ginjo immediately became annoyed as he turned his head to find Ichigo fixing him with a knowing grin. His father was the last person he wanted to witness this. Looking away with a frown, he tried to ignore the man.

With her hands clasped together, Rukia looked at her child with sparkling wide eyes. "Ginjo…you're like my little hero…"

The sudden and intense sense of awe radiating off of her was almost blinding, and it took Ginjo by surprise, making him step back in apprehension. "It's…it's just dishes. You don't have to make a big deal out of it."

"But it's a labor of love, isn't it?" she asked with a hopeful look.

Ginjo closed his eyes and creased his brows. "No, it's not," he ground out between gritted teeth. In his mind, it was more akin to paying off a debt. _Why is she making this so difficult?!_

Ichigo had to struggle to stifle his laugh.

Ginjo turned and glared at the orange-haired man. "You shut up!"

"Ah, I'm so happy," Rukia sighed from cloud nine. She obviously didn't hear Ginjo's denial. "My little hero," she repeated dreamily.

"And will you quit calling me that?!" the boy demanded, agitation mounting. "It sounds retarded!"

"But you're growing up and being so responsible…"

"It's just a one time deal! Don't expect me to do it again!"

"Yes, but still…"

Rukia continued to daydream blissfully as Ichigo led her away and gently shoved her out the door. He, however, lingered at the doorway.

Ginjo shot him a look. "You got something to say?"

"Yeah, I do," Ichigo said with a glint in his eyes.

"Then spit it out!"

A smug grin spread across the man's face. "Don't break anything."

Ginjo narrowed his eyes. "You…just you wait…"

With a light chuckle, Ichigo finally left, allowing the boy to do his work in peace.

Although Ginjo claimed he would only do the dishes this one time, somehow he ended up doing them again the following night…and the night after that…and the night after that…and so on…

* * *

A/N: Bleh! This one was harder to work out than I had originally thought. Ginjo's wrestling with quite a few things here. It was difficult trying to express everything clearly while keeping it relatively concise and not beating it to death. Haha! I'm not sure if I succeeded or not. Hopefully, the major things came through. Please keep in mind that while Ginjo's struggling between his current and past relationships with Ichigo, he's also comparing his current life with Genji's life. As far as family goes, he's well aware that he'd pretty much hit the jackpot this time around. It's not something that can be easily brushed off or given up on, even if it is Ichigo. Ginjo and Ichigo's relationship is rather interesting to me. I find myself thinking about it a lot. LOL!

I think nine might be a bit young to be able to cut class and actually leave school grounds. But if anyone could find a way to do it, it would be Ginjo. Haha!

Many thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	6. Enigma

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. Uriya is mine.

* * *

(Hint/Reminder: Akari's family name is Hayashi. Ukita's family name is Kimura.)

* * *

**Sixth Glimpse: Enigma**

(Uriya – Age ten)

Uriya sat at the dinner table, writing on a piece of paper as he waited patiently for his father to fire off another question. Even though the boy had never been to his father's homeland, Uryuu had insisted that he learn about its history. While his school did teach world history, it was mostly just general overviews without much in depth information. Therefore, this was something he had to do on his own time.

He didn't really mind it much. All he had to do was read some history books, and then his father would talk to him about it and ask some questions. It wasn't very difficult. In fact, this time around, it was actually pretty interesting. He was learning about the feudal times filled with samurai and sword fights.

If there were one thing Uriya was really passionate about, it would be the sword. He even liked it better than the bow, though he would never admit it out loud for it would definitely give his father a heart attack on the spot. The man was highly sensitive about this subject after all.

Sitting across from the boy, Uryuu slowly flipped through the pages of the history book in his hand. "Ok…next question… Which feudal lord was often referred to as the God of War?"

"Hayashi Akira," Uriya replied as he continued to write on his piece of paper.

"Right. Because?"

"Not only did he conquer the most land, he also did it in the shortest amount of time and with the fewest casualties. He was feared by his enemies but respected by those under his rule. Most people consider him a tactical genius." The boy frowned slightly at what he had just written then picked up an eraser and started erasing.

Uryuu nodded. "Good. Then, how did his prosperous rule come to an end?"

Uriya brushed his hand over his piece of paper a few times and continued to write. "His allies betrayed him and joined forces with his enemies. Hayashi was outnumbered, and he lost. His people were massacred, his castle was burned to the ground, and when it was over, those cowards divided up his land." The boy paused in his writing as his brows creased into a slight frown. He didn't understand why this upset him so much. He had been angry when he first read about it as well, and he rarely got angry about anything.

"Hmm…you really know this stuff…" Uryuu mumbled thoughtfully as he continued to flip through the pages. Now he was seriously trying to look for a trick question that might trip up the boy. "Ah, here's something. Did you read about the legend that says the reason why Hayashi Akira had been so invincible was because he was protected by a powerful priestess?"

"It was a princess," Uriya corrected offhandedly as he resumed his writing.

Uryuu double-checked his book again then grinned. "Your answer's incorrect. The book says priestess." Not that he _wanted _the boy to be wrong, but it was no fun when he was right _all_ the time.

Uriya looked up. He was positive that his answer was correct. "Then that book's wrong. Check these," he said, gesturing to the towering stack of history books on the table.

The man frowned at the stack. It would take too long. Now that he thought about it, a legend was a legend and probably had many different versions. Maybe that wasn't such a good question after all. "We'll just move on. Let's see… Name the well-known samurai who served Hayashi Akira from his rise to power to his fall."

"Kimura Masaru."

"Right, and—"

"There were two," the boy added.

Uryuu blinked. "Two?"

"Two Kimuras," Uriya clarified, still writing. "Masaru was killed in battle somewhere along the way. The one who served Hayashi Akira in the end was Masaru's son."

Uryuu closed the book and looked at his son, perplexed. "And _where_ did you get that from?"

The young Quincy stopped writing and looked up. He couldn't quite remember. Then he looked at the pile of books on the table again. "Somewhere in there." It was the only logical answer he could think of, even though he couldn't remember reading about it. Was it possible that he actually learned it from his history teacher?

Uryuu heaved a disappointed sigh. "Let's stop here for today." Kimura Masaru was a famous historical figure. One did not need to be a history buff to know about him, and Uryuu knew for certain that there were never two Kimuras. If these books couldn't even get _that_ right, then there was no point in continuing. He'd have to check through them later to make sure his son wasn't learning bogus history.

It was at this point that Uryuu finally noticed the boy scribbling away on a piece of paper. "What are you doing?" he asked, somewhat confused.

"Math homework."

Uryuu adjusted his glasses. "You're working out math problems while answering history questions?" _Can you really do that?_ He was rather skeptical.

"It saves time," the boy replied flatly.

"It won't be saving time if it's wrong," Uryuu commented teasingly.

"Would you like to check the answers?" Uriya put his pencil down and slid the paper across the table. "I'm done."

"Hmm…? You seem pretty confident."

"I am," the boy replied, not skipping a beat.

Uryuu smirked. "And if I should find something wrong?"

Uriya thought it over. They did this often, this betting game. Usually, he'd offer to do an extra chore or run another errand if he lost. This time, however, he felt he could raise the stakes a little. "I'll hand over Seele Schneider."

Uryuu raised his brows at that.

The young Ishida averted his eyes. "…for a week."

Uryuu tried not to grin. "Still…for you, that's a pretty big sacrifice."

A small smirk graced the boy's lips. "You're not going to get it."

"All right. I'll check it later," Uryuu said. "But first…I made _this_ for you!" he announced as he grabbed a white long-sleeved T-shirt off the chair beside him and held it up for the child to see. "It's a new design!" he beamed. "What do you think?"

Uriya stared dully at the shirt. Although his father was claiming it to be a new design, to him it was pretty much the same as the last fifteen…thirty…sixty shirts that the man had made for him. Sure, the colors may have changed, the collar looked different, and the details in the sleeves weren't the same. However, all the shirts shared one commonality: the Quincy Cross. Big, small, in repeating patterns…the Quincy Cross would be on there _somewhere_. This 'new' design was no different. There was an oversized blue Quincy Cross sewn on it, right down the middle.

Seeing the boy's lack of a reaction, Uryuu's face fell. "What? You don't like it?"

Uriya blinked, his face unreadable. "…It's fine. Thank you, Tou-san." He held out his hand to receive the not-so-unique gift.

Uryuu handed the item over with an internal sigh. He would have to think of a better design next time. Deep down, he was still secretly hoping for the day when he would get an enthusiastic response out of the boy. "I got a letter from your school today about events and club activities," he said, changing the subject. "Do you want to join any?"

"I'm not interested," the boy replied without a second thought.

Looking through the pile of mail, Uryuu found the school's letter and skimmed down the list nonetheless. "There's a spelling competition. Want to do that?"

"I can spell," Uriya said apathetically. "I don't feel the need to stand on a stage to prove that I can spell."

"Mmm…what about the marathon event?"

"I can run. I don't feel the need to run circles in front of a crowd to prove that I can run."

"Soccer team?"

"I can kick. I don't feel—"

"Ok, ok, I get it," Uryuu said as he held up a hand. His shoulders slumped as he heaved a heavy sigh. The boy really didn't like mingling with people much, did he? _Great…I'm raising a super duper antisocial oddball…_ Uryuu had been quite the loner himself as a child, but Uriya was really raising it to some kind of art form. He couldn't help but worry just a bit.

"If we're finished here, then I'm going back to my room." Uriya stood up and gathered his things, hoping to make his escape before his father decided to propose any other extracurricular activities for him to participate in.

Uryuu watched as he propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his folded hands. "What're you going to do hiding in your room?" Was the boy already getting to the age where he didn't want to spend time with his father anymore?

"I just thought of a new project," Uriya answered vaguely as he began to walk away. "Besides, didn't you say you have an important meeting tomorrow that you need to prepare for?"

Uryuu bolted to his feet with wide eyes. "That's right! I almost forgot!!" It wasn't easy juggling work with parenthood but, lucky for him, Uriya was relatively independent and tended to have the knack for reminding him when things slipped his mind.

As Uryuu scrambled, the young Quincy retreated upstairs to his room. Closing the door behind him, he tossed his new shirt onto the bed and put his books on his desk. He got a pair of scissors out of the desk drawer and sat on his bed.

Picking up the new shirt, he inspected it closely for a moment. _Looks doable…_ Then, using the scissors, he began to work on his 'new project': cutting through the threads to remove the blasted Quincy Cross from the shirt.

Even though he had absolutely _no_ interest in this sort of thing, he had seen his father do it enough to get the gist of how it worked. It wasn't that he had anything against the Quincy Cross, but he could stand to live without feeling like he was practically branded by it. At least one shirt without it would be a refreshing change…

* * *

(Two months later)

_Intense heat._

_Every inch of his body was registering intense and suffocating heat. Unbearable as it was, he ignored it as he pushed deeper into the inferno. _

_His surroundings were a chaotic mix of blazing red and murky black as the flames danced and the smoke twirled. The once elegant castle that he called home would soon be nothing more than an unrecognizable pile of ashes and cinders. Before that happened, he had to find her._

_His eyes stung and watered, but he would not let it deter him. The smell of burning flesh invaded his senses, but he paid it no heed. Breathing was becoming progressively more difficult, and he had long since lost the ability to call out her name, but he would not let it stop him. Fueled by nothing but pure desperation, he continued his futile search._

_Even as reality caught up to him…when the walls caved in and the ceiling collapsed…he refused to give up. Trapped within his fiery grave, he repeated it in his mind until the very end:_

_I will find her…I will find her…I will find her…_

* * *

His eyes shot open with a start. Lying motionless in cold sweat, Uriya stared up at the ceiling and waited for his heart to calm before climbing out of his bed. After a dream like that, it was impossible to simply fall back asleep.

He went out into the second floor sitting room and opened the double doors, stepping out onto the balcony. The crisp night air was soothing on his skin, and he was glad that the moon was out again tonight. He had taken to doing this a lot in recent days…staring up at the moon. Perhaps it was because it had been something that she had done often during their time in Las Noches. Their brief reunion.

Ever since those history lessons about the feudal times, his memories had been coming back to him in bits and pieces. It had already been weeks since he regained all of his memories, but still, the dreaming had yet to subside. He could only hope that they would stop soon, because they were truly beginning to wear him out. Having to relive his death over and over again was decidedly unpleasant, and for some unknown reason, that was the recurring dream he had the most. It was as though his subconscious was trying to remind him of his failure…and his purpose. It was reminding him of the reason why he had returned to the living world.

It wasn't just Orihime that he had to search for. There was also Grimmjow. Of course, there was always the possibility that Grimmjow might not have taken up on Urahara Kisuke's offer, but Uriya thought it unlikely. Knowing Grimmjow, if that had been the case, he would have made it a point to come find Uriya just so he could yell at him and tell him what a stupid bastard he was. It had been over ten years since he had been reborn, and he had yet to be harassed by an agitated blue-haired Espada. So, most likely, that idiot was now among the living as well. Either way, Uriya was prepared to get an earful the next time he met up with Grimmjow again. After all, he _did_ swallow that pill rather hastily and simply left Grimmjow hanging.

Staring up at the clear night sky, the boy heaved a quiet sigh. Even though it was a daunting task and the world was big, there was no doubt in his mind that he would find both of them. He wouldn't allow himself to think otherwise. It was just a matter of where…and when.

From within the dark sitting room, Uryuu watched his son's back silently with a disheartened frown. This wasn't the first time he caught the child standing out there in the middle of the night lost in his thoughts. He didn't want to admit it, but…the boy had changed. Even though Uriya had always been more mature than most children his age, he still retained the innocence of a child. Recently, however, it seemed that innocence had somehow disappeared. His behavior shifted, and he was even quieter and more reserved than he already was. But what really told the story were his eyes. They seemed so much older than a ten-year-old's should be, and they carried a weight that Uryuu wasn't sure he understood.

Countless times, he had wanted to ask the boy about it, but fear had prevented him from voicing his question. The not knowing, however, was beginning to eat away at him, and he couldn't take it anymore. "Are you remembering the past?" he asked in a quiet voice. The question was vague enough so that if the boy had no idea what he was referring to, it would simply go over his head.

For the longest stretch of time, Uriya neither moved nor made a sound. Then he turned his head slightly, his eyes trained on the floor. "…You know?" He was genuinely surprised. His father shouldn't be able to figure out who he was, let alone realize that he was actually remembering things from the past. How was that even possible?

That short reply was all the confirmation Uryuu needed to know that his greatest fear had indeed come to pass. Suddenly, he wished that he hadn't asked. In truth, he didn't really know much about Ulquiorra besides the fact that he had been a member of the Espada. The two of them had never really crossed paths. He had only seen the arrancar once…in the throne room of Las Noches, when all the fighting had come to an end. Lying on the floor, practically on the brink of death after his fight with Szayel Aporro Granz, Uryuu had seen Ulquiorra enter the throne room and speak with Ichigo briefly before abruptly disappearing. That was it. He knew nothing about his son's former incarnation, which was precisely why this was so nerve-wracking. He had no idea what to expect or how those old memories might change the boy now. All Uryuu knew was that he didn't want to lose his only child.

"May I ask you something?" Uriya's calm and quiet voice shook his father out of his reverie. "Aizen Sousuke…what happened to him?"

If the boy was trying to make Uryuu feel better, he wasn't doing a very good job. Of all the things that he could have asked, why did he have to ask _this_ first? The fact that he was even inquiring about Aizen at all didn't bode well. "He was executed in Soul Society," Uryuu replied, carefully keeping his emotions from seeping into his voice.

Uriya turned his eyes back up to the moon. "…I see."

At times like this, Uryuu _really_ wished that Uriya would be more expressive and talkative. What did he mean by 'I see'? Was it a _happy_ 'I see' or a _devastated_ 'I see'? He couldn't gauge a thing from just _'I see'_. Determined now to figure the boy out, he stepped out onto the balcony, resting his forearms against the railing. "Would you like to know about anyone else? Ichimaru Gin, perhaps?" he asked as he watched for the boy's reactions from the corner of his eyes.

Uriya gave that a moment's thought. "Yes. I need to know about him as well."

"As far as I know, Ichimaru is still missing."

The boy actually turned to look at his father that time as though to confirm that it was the truth. Something flickered briefly behind his eyes…something like surprise. However, once again, Uryuu couldn't tell whether it was a _positive_ surprise or a _negative_ surprise. He moved on. "Tousen Kaname?"

"I believe he died in Las Noches," Uriya said, his voice clinically neutral. "Am I correct?"

"Yes," Uryuu replied, internally frustrated. It looked like beating around the bush wasn't going to get him any answers after all. He took a deep breath and let it out as he mentally prepared himself. "…Do you know who I am?" he finally asked, his voice solemn.

It was a stupid question. However, laced within this stupid question was a series of complicated unasked questions: Do you know who I am? Do you know my part in the war? Do you hold it against me? Do you hate me? Do you still trust me? Do you still love me?…

In the way that his father asked that single stupid question, Uriya heard all that went unspoken. "That question is a waste of time, wouldn't you agree?" He looked up at the man.

Uryuu stared back, his hands clenched into fists.

"I regained memories. I didn't get amnesia," Uriya continued. "You're my father," he said, matter of fact. Then, at the sight of the man's dumbstruck look, he couldn't help but smirk ever so slightly.

In that simple answer and that familiar small smirk of amusement, Uryuu finally found what he was looking for. Before he knew it, he was on his knees with his arms wrapped tightly around his child as though his life depended on it.

Though a bit taken aback by his father's emotional state, Uriya didn't resist. When it didn't seem like the man was going to let go anytime soon, the boy gave a small sigh and reached a hand up to pat his father on the back as though comforting a child. Truth be told, Uriya had been harboring some uncertainties of his own that were not unlike the ones his father had. However, seeing the man's reaction now was more than enough to answer his questions and quiet his doubts.

Uryuu pulled away, though he still kept his hands on the boy's shoulders. With his head down, he heaved a deep sigh of relief, finally letting out the breath that he had been holding for over a decade. His son didn't disappear. _Nothing's changed…_

"I wouldn't say nothing," Uriya said. "Something did change."

Uryuu looked up with a blink. He didn't realize that he had said that out loud.

"Although…you may actually be happy about it."

"What might that be?" Uryuu asked, quirking a brow in confusion. He was happy with everything the way it was. He really didn't want anything to change.

"I won't be requiring sword lessons anymore."

At that, Uryuu couldn't help but burst out into a fit of laughter. When he finally caught his breath, he looked at the boy with a shake of his head. "If you really want to make me happy, then would you do me a favor and _please_ go back to bed? You're creeping me out just standing here in the dark doing nothing."

Uriya raised his brows slightly. "Fine," he said, trying to tuck a smile away as he headed for the doors. Before he crossed the threshold, he turned around with another question. "The next time we go on a trip…would it be all right if we went somewhere we've never been to before?"

It took a while for Uryuu's brain to register that very out-of-the-blue and completely unrelated question. "Sure…" he said, somewhat befuddled as he got back to his feet. "Where would you like to go?"

The boy turned his attention up to the moon for inspiration, a distant look in his eyes. "Anywhere is fine. Just…somewhere where there's people."

Uryuu wasn't sure if he heard that right. The boy generally preferred going to more nature-oriented destinations, so for his super duper antisocial oddball to specifically request to go to a place with people…it was strange and unexpected.

"Goodnight, Tou-san."

"Wait!" Uryuu called out before the boy could make his retreat. There was still one thing he had to know in order to get peace of mind. "Why did you ask me about Aizen?"

"…So that I can act accordingly," Uriya said, an unreadable look on his features. "After all…I did betray him in the end." With that, the boy walked away, leaving his father in bewilderment.

Uryuu leaned his arms against the railing once more, his eyes staring unseeingly down at the lawn below as he tried to process everything that had just occurred. He had been right about one thing: he really didn't know anything about Ulquiorra. While Uriya didn't disappear, there was now a part of him that Uryuu didn't understand. In some respects, it almost felt like he had to get to know the boy all over again. But…he was all right with that.

As long as Uriya was still here, Uryuu had plenty of time to figure him out.

* * *

A/N: Uriya is a quirky kid, but I can't really imagine him otherwise. LOL! He and Ginjo are like night and day. I think that to myself all the time. Their personalities and the way they handle things are almost always in direct opposite to one another. How did they ever get to be best friends? Haha!

Hope the hint in the beginning was helpful. Since it's been ages since Hayashi-sama and Kimura had been mentioned, people have probably forgotten who the heck they are. Heh… And they finally get names now! Akira means 'bright'. Since Akari means 'light', I thought that worked well. Masaru means 'victory'. Makes sense to me for a big shot samurai. Poor Ukita…history forgot about him. But it's ok, cuz he could care less about stuff like that.

Incidentally, Uriya didn't have to hand over Seele Schneider.

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	7. Petals

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo, but Ginjo is my baby.

* * *

**Seventh Glimpse: Petals**

(Himeko – Age nine)

Being different either worked for you or against you. Himeko knew that well.

For her brother, it definitely worked against him. With his electric blue hair that no one in his or her right mind would ever believe was his natural color, he often drew the attention of older boys who thought he was a cocky prepubescent kid trying to be cool. It certainly didn't help that Ginjo would never fail to give them that condescending you-might-be-taller-but-in-my-mind-you're-about-the-size-of-an-ant look. So, he would end up getting into fights often and, unfortunately for the older boys, his I'm-better-than-you attitude didn't just come from nowhere. Ginjo really _was_ better than they were, and he had won every fight so far. Even though he was still just an eleven-year-old grade school kid, his nickname was already being whispered and feared amongst the other students: the Blue-Haired Devil.

For Himeko, however, being different seemed to be working for her so far. Despite her bright orange hair, she never really had any trouble with the other children. In fact, quite a few of them thought it was cute. Well…there was this one boy, a year older than herself, who used to keep picking on her because her hair made her stand out. But after her brother found out about it and subsequently beat the tar out of him…he pretty much kept his distance. Then there was this one girl who would always say mean things about her for no apparent reason, but after Ginjo hauled her into the boys' room and intimidated her to the point where she peed her pants…Himeko never heard a peep from her again. Other than that, Himeko generally got along well with all her classmates.

She was at school right now, currently on recess. She and her friends had just finished playing a game of tag. Opting to sit the next game out, Himeko went to take a break on the swings.

As she absentmindedly swung her legs back and forth, she thought about how it wasn't just at school where she was different. She was different at home as well. She was the only one who wasn't a shinigami. In this case, it wasn't really working for her so much. It made her feel helpless…and somewhat lonely. She could see spirits well enough. She just couldn't do anything about it. She didn't necessarily want to fight hollows, but she would at least like to be able to perform konsou. Even Ginjo could do konsou. He would always have an annoyed look on his face and say stuff like 'cross the hell over already!' before stamping the spirits' foreheads with the hilt of his zanpakutou, but he still did something helpful, and watching him put her in awe every time.

Then she heard a sound that made her perk up and look around. Upon finding nothing out of the ordinary, she frowned slightly. _That's weird…I could have sworn I heard—_

"Himeko-chan…" came the whispered voice again. "Himeko-chan…"

She definitely heard it that time. Standing up from the swing, her eyes searched her surroundings again until they found what she was looking for: a man with his eyes hidden under his hat and his face concealed behind his fan peeking out at her from behind a big tree at the edge of the school's playground, beckoning her with a wave of his hand. Her frown dissolved into a bright smile as she ran over to meet him behind the tree. "Urahara-san! What are you doing here?"

Urahara slapped his fan shut, revealing his grinning face as he crouched down to her eye level. "I came to see you, of course," he said, making it sound as though that should have been obvious. "And guess what I have?" He rummaged through the pocket of his jacket and pulled out something, presenting it to the girl.

Himeko's smile widened as she clasped her hands together. "A lollipop! And it's strawberry! I love strawberry!" She took the proffered gift. "Thank you, Urahara-san!"

"Wait! Heheh…there's more." He went through the pocket on the other side and pulled out something else.

"Ooh! Bubble gum!"

He dug through his inside pocket. "And this…"

"Chocolate!!"

"This, too!" he said as he pulled something out from within his sleeve.

"Caramel!" She was jumping by now, laughing with delight.

In an alley across the street, observing the scene from behind a couple of trashcans were a redhead and a girl with pigtails.

"Ok…" Jinta said quietly as he adjusted the focus on his binoculars to zoom in as much as possible. "That's another three lollipops…a candy whistle…a bag of gummy hollows…a dark chocolate covered cookie zanpakutou…another candy whistle…"

As the boy rattled off the items, Ururu diligently wrote everything down on her notebook. "Why are we doing this, Jinta-kun?" she asked meekly.

"Because every time he sees that girl, he gives half the store away," Jinta drawled without looking away from his binoculars. "Two lemon drops…another lollipop…"

"But it's Kisuke-san's store," Ururu said, a bit confused. "He should be able to give it away if he wants to, right?"

"That's what _I_ said, but Tessai wants a full inventory this time so he'd know exactly what we'd have to restock," the boy replied with an exasperated sigh. Urahara was such a lousy owner. If he'd just write down everything he took, it would save Jinta so much trouble.

The boy frowned as he continued to observe. The Kurosaki girl was thoroughly charmed as Urahara kept magically producing sweets from various places. Under his hat, behind his ear…pretty much everywhere except, thankfully, where the sun don't shine.

Jinta couldn't help but roll his eyes. To anyone who didn't know, the exiled shinigami would appear to be a suspicious and shady pervert trying to lure an innocent young girl with candy. It was a wonder why none of the whispering passersby ever tried to beat him away with a stick.

"Jinta-kun…Jinta-kun, why did you stop?"

Ururu's voice shook the boy out of his musings, and it was only then that he realized he had completely forgotten to do his job. "Darn it, Ururu! You made me lose count!" Placing the binoculars down on the trashcan lid, he put the pigtailed girl in a headlock and began roughly rubbing the top of her head with his knuckles.

"Ow! Ow! Jinta-kun, that hurts!" Ururu protested, but the boy wasn't about to let go.

Back on the other side of the street, Urahara's magic show had finally concluded, leaving Himeko's arms filled to the brim with various treats. All the girl could do was smile, smile, smile.

Urahara grinned. "Feeling better? You looked a bit down just now. Is something the matter?"

"Huh?" Then she looked away dejectedly as she remembered what she had been thinking about. "No…not really."

"Hmm? Are you sure?" From his tone of voice, it was obvious that he didn't believe it.

"Well…Urahara-san…can you sense my reiatsu?" Himeko closed her eyes and scrunched up her face into what she assumed was the look of concentration.

Urahara raised a brow but said nothing.

After a bit, she opened her eyes. "Well? Can you?" she asked, uncertain but hopeful. "Do you think I might become a shinigami soon?"

"Ah," he said as understanding dawned on him. "Well…your reiatsu is undoubtedly unique."

Himeko tilted her head to one side. "So…is that a yes, or a no?"

Urahara chuckled lightly at her response. "That would be an 'I don't know'. It's like this flower," he said as he pointed to a small bud in the midst of the grass with his fan. "If I want to know what color it's going to be, I'll have to wait for it to bloom to find out."

"It's a dandelion," she said flatly. "It's going to be yellow."

"Are you so sure?" he asked with a bit of challenge in his voice. "Even with flowers that grow from the same roots, from time to time, there would be that unique bud that would bloom in a different color. So, maybe this dandelion is actually white." He looked up at her. "As for you…maybe you'll become a shinigami. Or maybe your powers will manifest in an entirely different way."

Himeko frowned. She really wasn't sure what he was trying to say.

"You'll understand soon enough," he said as he placed a hand on top of her head with another grin. "Before I forget, I actually came to give you something."

The girl blinked down at the mountain of sweets cradled in her arms. "…You mean besides all this?"

"Heheh…" He reached a hand into his sleeve and retrieved a small white box with a bow on it. "You turned nine two weeks ago, didn't you?"

Himeko's face lit up. "It's a birthday present?!" She looked from the box to the candies and back to the box again. She really wanted to open the present, but her hands were tied. "Um…um…can you open it for me?"

Urahara complied. Removing the lid, he revealed a pair of hairpins, each with a little blue flower on it.

"Oh! They're so cute! Thank you, Urahara-san!" she exclaimed as she leaped into his arms.

In that moment as he returned the embrace, the exiled shinigami couldn't help but smile that rare genuine smile…the one he reserved just for her. "Take good care of them," he told her softly. "They'll be important someday."

"Ok!" she chirped, a bit too readily to have really understood his words.

Urahara heaved a small sigh. "You do realize that we're now completely surrounded by candy, don't you?"

"Eh?" Himeko pulled back and looked at him with blinking wide eyes. Then directing her eyes to the ground, she saw all the treats that she had carelessly dropped everywhere in her moment of forgetful excitement. She scratched the back of her head with a sheepish smile. "Eheheh… Oops."

* * *

Ginjo paced back and forth restlessly in the hallway. _What the heck is she doing? She's been in there forever!_ Finally fed up, he stepped into the bathroom. "Are you done yet, princess?!" he asked, impatience written all over his face.

Himeko, who was hovering over the counter in front of the mirror trying to put the hairpins she received today into her hair, turned to give her brother a questioning look.

"I gotta take a piss," he said with exasperation.

She gave a small frown. "Can't you just say you have to use the bathroom like a normal person?"

"I gotta pee, damn it!" The words were rephrased, but they didn't really sound any better.

"I'm not done, yet," she said with a huff as she turned back to the mirror. She had been trying to use the pins to hold back her bangs for the longest time. However, because her bangs were so short, the hair wouldn't stay up properly. No matter where she stuck the pins in, they always ended up looking weird.

Then the hairpins caught Ginjo's attention. "Hey…I remember these…" he said thoughtfully as he plucked one out of his sister's hand and studied it more closely. They looked dull with age, but they were definitely the same ones. "Where'd you get them?"

"Urahara-san gave them to me," she said distractedly, still concentrating on her task.

Ginjo raised his brows. _He's been holding on to them all these years…_ After another moment's thought, he held the pin out in front of his sister's face. "Do you recognize it?" he asked, a serious expression on his features.

Himeko blinked up at him. "No. Why? Do you have a pair like it?"

He ran a hand down his face as he suppressed the urge to strangle her. "Why the frickin' heck would I have stupid hairpins?!"

"They're not stupid!"

"They would be if _I_ had them! And what in the world's taking you so long?!" he grumbled. "Just stick them in your hair and be done with it!"

"They won't stay up!" she said with a bit of frustration as she tried once again to pin up her bangs, only to have her hair slip out again.

Ginjo rolled his eyes as he grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. Then he plucked the other pin from her hand as well. Brushing her bright orange locks behind her ear with his fingers, he inserted one of the pins a little bit above her ear…the way he remembered how she used to wear them. "Your bangs are too short. It looks retarded if you try to pin them up high," he said with a hint of annoyance as he started to work on the other side. "This is how you're supposed to wear them." He folded his arms when he was finished.

Himeko looked into the mirror again and was pleasantly surprised, if not dumbstruck, by the fact that her brother of all people knew how to do this better than she did.

Ginjo was watching her reflection when he thought he saw her hairpins sparkle. He turned to look at the real thing just to make sure he wasn't seeing things. While they weren't sparkling anymore, for some odd reason, they no longer appeared dull. It was as though life had returned to them somehow. "Don't lose them," he told her. "They'll be important someday."

Himeko turned to him and frowned.

"What?" he asked with a scowl.

"That's…exactly what Urahara-san told me."

"Then you better not forget it," he said flatly.

She pouted, unable to comprehend why hairpins would be important. Deciding not to dwell on it, she turned back to the mirror for one final look. "You're pretty good at this, Gin-chan. Are you _sure_ you don't have a pair?"

He smacked the back of her head lightly with his hand. "Get out. Now."

Himeko giggled as she began to gather her belongings…deliberately slow. Picking up her brush in one hand, she put it in her other hand. Then she picked up her comb, set the brush back on the counter, and picked up her other hairpins. Basically, instead of gathering, she was merely shuffling, biting her lips to prevent her laughter from bursting forth.

Ginjo's scowl deepened. _Two can play at this game…_ He went over to the toilet and very nonchalantly unzipped his pants.

At the sight of that, Himeko practically shrieked. "Gin-chan, you idiot!!" She gathered her things at the speed of light and disappeared in a flash.

Ginjo kicked the door shut behind her. _Finally… The things I gotta do just ta take a leak…_

* * *

A/N: Urahara behaves a bit differently when he's around Himeko. He can't help it. He adores her so. Haha! I think the gummy hollows might sell pretty well around Halloween.

Compared to the last two chapters, this one was a lot easier to write. It's a bit shorter, but I didn't want to make it long just for the purpose of making it long. I suspect there may be other short chapters in the future as well. I'm actually surprised the first few chapters ended up being as long as they did. Heh…

Many thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	8. Unwanted Guests

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. Himeko belongs to me.

* * *

**Eighth Glimpse: Unwanted Guests**

When Ginjo opened the door upon returning home from school with his sister and heard a decidedly annoying "Hiiiiiiiiiimeko-chaaaaaaaaaaaan!!" as an unnecessarily elated Shinji came charging towards them with open arms, he had a feeling that his evening probably wasn't going to be particularly pleasant.

"Shinji-san!" Himeko exclaimed as the vizard wrapped his arms around her. "It's Gin-chan's birthday today!"

Beside her, Ginjo frowned. "Oi. Don't give him unnecessary information, princess."

She ignored her brother. "Did you come to celebrate with us?"

"Of _course_ we did!" Shinji replied promptly with a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Yay! Then it'll be like a party this time!" She turned to her brother with a bright smile. "Isn't that great, Gin-chan?!"

"…yes…great…" Ginjo said dryly. He really wasn't interested in a party. The fact that he never liked parties aside, it wasn't like he was a kid anymore…mentally speaking.

"Ok, then! I'm going to tell mom we're home." She slipped out of her shoes and bounced into the kitchen.

Shinji sighed as he watched her go. "Ah…my first crush… She's looking more and more like her old self everyday… In a few more years, she'd be old enough for me to propose to her!"

Ginjo narrowed his eyes at the man. "Say what?"

"Wouldn't that be great?" Shinji asked as he held up a finger. "I'll even call you Onii-cha—"

Ginjo's fist shot out before the thought of 'I want to bash his face in' had even fully formulated inside his brain. "That's it! Hands off my sister from now on, you bastard! And if you call me that again, I'll chop you ta bits, ya hear?!"

Shinji cupped a hand over his now bleeding nose as he frowned down at the boy. "How did such a sweet girl get such a violent brother?"

"It's to keep freaks like you away…obviously." Ginjo folded his arms as his eyes wandered around, finally seeing the rest of the vizard gang sprinkled all over the sitting room. "Why are you here?" he asked, still somewhat annoyed.

"What do you mean? We came cuz it's your birthday," Shinji said, the grin returning to his face.

"That's a lie, isn't it?" the boy asked with blatant accusation. Despite his own wishes, his mother had always gone out of her way to invite them over for dinner on his birthday. This, however, was the first time they actually showed up.

"What?!" Shinji exclaimed, somewhat indignant. "How could you even think that? I'm as honest as they come!"

Ginjo sighed. "Mashiro blew up the oven again, didn't she?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Of course not," the vizard insisted with a small laugh. "What makes you say that?"

"Because I can see a half-burnt cake sitting on the kitchen counter," Ginjo stated, and he was pretty sure that the cake didn't have his name on it until _after_ it had charred.

Shinji followed the boy's line of sight into the kitchen to see Mashiro only_ now_ putting frosting on the cake with Hachi's and Himeko's help. _Mashiro, you idiot!_ He slumped his shoulders in defeat. "It wasn't just the oven," he finally admitted. "When that went, it caused a chain reaction that took out every kitchen appliance we own."

Ginjo grumbled. "Don't you people know the meaning of takeout? Quit coming here for free meals, damn it."

"Hey, just be glad you actually get presents this time," Shinji said. The kid had no idea how often they actually _do_ go the takeout route before coming here or going to Urahara's. Shoving his hand in his pocket, he dug something out and slapped it into the boy's hand.

Ginjo eyed the object in his opened palm. "The hell is this?"

"It's a coin."

"You can't even buy a stick of gum with this coin," the boy said flatly.

Shinji raised a brow. "Well, aren't _you_ picky."

The young Kurosaki rolled his eyes. "Look, I don't need a stupid present from you. I just want—"

"No way."

Ginjo faltered. "I haven't even said it, yet!"

"You want a rematch, right?" Shinji said with a sigh. "That's all you've been saying whenever you see me these days."

They had only crossed blades once, back when Ginjo was still the sexta Espada. Shinji couldn't believe the boy still remembered that rather brief encounter and even wanted to settle the score. It was amusing, especially since Ginjo currently wasn't even half as strong as he used to be. Of course, that wasn't to say that the boy didn't have any potential. Shinji knew potential when he saw it, and Ginjo was definitely it. Given his parentage as well as his previous incarnation, it was no surprise. However, it would still take a bit of time for that power to develop.

With his hands in his pockets, the vizard began to saunter away. "Give it a rest. The answer's no."

Ginjo kicked off his shoes and stomped after the vizard. "Why the hell not?! It's not like it'll take up that much of your time."

"Yes, it will," Shinji drawled, "because you'll lose and then ask for another rematch. It's too much of a bother."

"Hey, you can't just assume that I'll lose!" Ginjo protested indignantly, trying to ignore the fact that even _he_ knew that would be the case. He would never ever admit it out loud, but Ginjo knew Shinji ranked pretty high amongst the most powerful warriors in existence. He wanted to know how he measured up. Not to mention, fighting the vizard would definitely help him improve.

"Kensei," Shinji called out as he walked by the man sitting on the couch. "Why don't you give the brat your present?"

"Are you ignoring me, you bastard?!" Ginjo had every intention of following Shinji out of the room, but a hand grabbing him by the back of his collar prevented him from doing so.

"Hold up there, birthday boy," Kensei said as he yanked Ginjo backwards and dumped him on the couch. "Why don't you hang with us for a while?"

Ginjo now found himself surrounded. He was sitting in the middle of the couch with Kensei on one side, Love on the other. Hiyori was leaning back in her armchair with her feet up on the coffee table while Risa and Rose, sitting in chairs across from him, were passing time with a game of cards. Ginjo's first instinct was to get up and leave, but Kensei's firm grip on his shoulder pushed him back into his seat.

With his other hand, Kensei tossed something onto Ginjo's lap. "Here. This is for you."

Ginjo stared at the paper bag on his lap. Yes. It was a paper bag. A brown, crinkled paper bag that looked like it had already been used before. It wasn't even sealed. No. The opening was just rolled up. As Ginjo opened the bag, he was half expecting to find a half-eaten sandwich inside. Instead…

"…It's a wrench," Ginjo stated. Somehow, the half-eaten sandwich might have actually been better. "What the heck am I supposed to do with a wrench?"

Kensei coughed once into his fist as he looked away. "Well…it's a man's tool."

"It looks old," the boy observed. The thing was even rusting.

"It's not old, it's _broken in_," Kensei explained. "Like a pair of jeans. It's better that way."

"Kensei, are you stupid?" Hiyori drawled lazily. "Giving him random junk from the garage…everybody's gonna know it's last minute."

"Shut up! At least I brought something," Kensei defended. How was _he_ supposed to know what a kid would want? "What about you?"

"I'm gracing him with my presence," the pigtailed girl replied, completely carefree. "What more could he want?"

Ginjo could really care less either way. "If we're done here, then I'm going," he announced as he got back to his feet.

"Woah! Wait a minute, kid!" Love said as he dragged the boy back into the couch. "You still haven't seen _my_ gift, yet! It's the best thing out there!" He reached into his back pocket and whipped out something to present to the boy. "Here. This is from me and Rose."

It was, not surprisingly, a manga. Ginjo read the cover. " 'Dye: Volume one'…Hey, I know what this is…" He wasn't a fan of comic books or anime, but he knew of this series due to its popularity. It was in stores, on TV, and kids talked about it at school. Unless he lived in a cave, it would have been impossible to not know the name.

The story was about a bunch of invisible superheroes from another dimension who used guns with the ability to change shapes. They fought invisible helmet-wearing creatures that preyed on human souls in order to satisfy their hunger. Then somewhere along the way, stronger creatures with broken helmets started to appear in the story. Ginjo couldn't help but feel that the whole setup had an eerie sense of familiarity about it.

"Oh! So, you know my work!" Love exclaimed with excitement, shaking the boy out of his reverie.

"What?!" Ginjo turned to the man with wide eyes. "You wrote this thing?!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Love said, animatedly. "But I just write the story, since I can't draw worth crap. There's another guy who does the character designs, and a team who draws out the story. And it's got fans of all ages. Even old folks! Impressive, eh?" He was beaming with pride.

Ginjo wasn't sure if he was necessarily impressed, but at least now he knew he wasn't just seeing things. "So, I was right. This thing really _is_ a messed up version of history."

"No, man, you can't think of it like that," Love said. "It's a way to document the truth that the living world would otherwise never know," he said, holding up a fist for dramatic emphasis. Then he paused a moment in thought. "Hmm…a way to document the truth that the world would otherwise never know…" he repeated under his breath. "That's a good line! I better write it down." He whipped out a pen and small notepad from his other back pocket and busied himself with the task.

"Forget the manga, kid," Risa spoke up as she slapped a thin rectangular package on top of the coffee table with one hand while still holding a hand of cards in the other. "This is way better." Her no-nonsense attitude made it seem more like she was in the middle of a business transaction as opposed to gift giving.

Upon closer look, Ginjo discovered that the thin package was in fact another unsealed paper bag, though without crinkles this time. He raised a brow when he got a glimpse of what was inside. "More books?" Magazines, maybe? "Is there something about me that makes people think that I actually _like_ to read?" he questioned under his breath. And here he thought he was the embodiment of delinquency.

"Don't worry," Rose commented offhandedly as he contemplated about which card to discard from his hand, "I doubt there's much actual reading in _those_ books."

The boy frowned in confusion as he picked up the paper bag. However, before he could look to see what Rose was talking about, a quick hand descended from above and snatched the bag away from him. "Hey!"

"Waaaaaaaiiiiiit a minute here," Ichigo said, suddenly appearing from out of nowhere to stand behind the couch. "Just _what_ exactly are these now?" he asked, fixing Risa with a warning glare.

Risa looked straight into the orange-haired man's eyes, not in the least bit intimidated. "Books. Didn't you hear?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What _kind_ of books?"

"Nothing inappropriate," she replied with a casual shrug.

Feeling skeptical, Ichigo took a peek at the contents inside the bag and immediately brought a palm up to meet his forehead with a smack. As it turned out, he had every right to be worried. "Nothing inappropriate?! Are you nuts?!"

Risa adjusted her glasses. "Ichigo, I understand that, as a father, it's hard for you to let go, but you can't shelter him from the world forever. Besides, he's a healthy hot-blooded male."

"He's TWELVE!!" Ichigo was practically breathing fire by now.

"Your point?" she asked calmly.

Ichigo was baffled to speechlessness. The woman was obviously desensitized beyond repair.

Ginjo rolled his eyes. By now, he had pretty much figured out what was in the bag. "I'll take 'em," he said, sounding half-bored.

"What?!" Ichigo exclaimed as he felt his blood pressure rise.

"I said I'll take 'em," the boy repeated.

"No, you won't!"

"Hey, she gave them to me, so it's none of your business," Ginjo said, snatching the bag back from his father.

Ichigo loomed over the boy with as much authority as he could muster. "I'm your father, so it's my call!!"

Another round of father-son glaring contest ensued. After a while, Ginjo yielded, looking away with a sigh of resignation. "Fine, whatever." He tossed the bag onto the coffee table towards Risa.

Ichigo raised his brows at how quickly the boy gave in this time. However, before he could give it much thought, he was distracted by the sound of things crashing in the kitchen followed by Rukia's call of distress.

"Ichigo! Come give me a hand!"

"Coming!" Ichigo called back before hurrying off to see what went wrong.

As soon as his father left the room, Ginjo turned back to Risa and held out his hand, motioning the 'give it here' signal with his fingers.

Risa smirked as she pushed the paper bag across the table back to the boy. "I like your style, kid."

Kensei shook his head slightly. "I'll pretend I didn't see that."

Love clamped one hand over his mouth to prevent himself from laughing out loud as he slapped his knee repeatedly with the other while Rose and Hiyori simply snickered quietly.

Ginjo gave a sly grin but said nothing. Did he actually care about the contents of the bag? Not one bit. Nevertheless, the fact that his father didn't want him to have it became a huge incentive. At the end of the day, he just enjoyed the feeling of having scored a win against his father…even if it was a bit underhanded.

Unfortunately for the blue-haired Kurosaki, he didn't have much time to bask in his little victory before the dreaded voice of doom pierced the air.

"Blueberry-taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!!"

Ginjo's eyes tripled in size as he shot to his feet. "Shit!"

It was already too late. Before he could make his escape, the dreaded arms of doom snaked around from behind and pulled him into the dreaded embrace of doom.

"Damn it, woman, let go!!" Ginjo hollered at the top of his lungs. But struggle as he might, there was no escaping Mashiro's _much_ dreaded affection of doom. Before he knew it, she had already yanked him over the back of the couch in typical Mashiro happy-go-lucky fashion and started planting the _extremely_ dreaded kisses of doom all over his face.

It was times like this when Ginjo _really_ hated being stuck in his tiny premature body. Perhaps before thinking about how he measured up to Shinji, he should really think about how to clear the Mashiro obstacle. Sometimes he couldn't help but think that the whole airhead thing was just a disguise, and she destroys their kitchen on purpose just so she could come here and torture him for fun.

In the mean time, everyone else in the room merely sat back and enjoyed the show. After all, messing with the Kurosaki boys was standard vizard entertainment.

"Happy birthday, Blueberry-tan!" Mashiro said between kisses, completely ignoring the fact that her object of affection was desperately trying to get the hell away from her. "Mashiro missed you!!"

"Do I _look_ like I care?!" Ginjo yelled as he strained his neck in attempt to move out of kissing range to no avail. "And quit calling me that!!" Seriously…Blueberry-tan…Blueberry-_tan_!! Compared to that, even 'Gin-chan' sounded highly dignified. He felt like his ears would bleed just from hearing it.

"Hey, hey, Blueberry-tan! I didn't know you like rabbits!" From out of nowhere Mashiro pulled out a paper plate and shoved it in front of Ginjo's face.

Temporarily distracted by the picture of the demented-looking Chappy the Rabbit printed on said plate, Ginjo stopped his struggling. He wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed by the fact that his mother actually got party plates or impressed by the fact that she was somehow able to acquire plates with that stupid rabbit on it. "That would be my mother's doing," he explained, starting to feel the drain. "That woman has poor tastes."

"Hmm?" Mashiro blinked. "But she married Berry-tan!"

Ginjo looked away with a snicker. "Heh…like I said…"

With a light chuckle, she tightened her arms around him again. "Silly boy!" However, before Ginjo could start up another round of squirming, she suddenly let go. "Come and look at the cake!" she exclaimed with childish excitement as she grasped his wrist and started tugging him along. "It's from Mashiro and Hachi!"

"I'm coming! Just stop touching me, damn it!" He tried to pull free, but for a petite girl, Mashiro sure had an iron grip.

When they got to the kitchen counter, Himeko was standing on a chair putting the finishing touches on the cake while Hachi observed with a gentle smile. The girl brightened at the sight of her approaching brother. "Look, Gin-chan! Do you like the design?!"

Ginjo stared at the thing on the counter. "It's…it's…" _…an abomination?_ All he could see was a huge blob of bright pink. Why pink?! It took a minute before he was able to see past the pink and take note of the fact that there were actually pictures on top of the cake that were constructed out of frosting. "Did you draw these?" he asked his sister instead.

"U-huh," she beamed. "They're fairies!"

So she claimed. But the fairies looked a bit too aerodynamic to fit the image of the conventional fairy. No matter which way Ginjo looked at it, they were definitely Orihime's Shun Shun Rikka. "Why six?" he tried asking. "If I'm twelve, then shouldn't there be twelve fairies?"

Himeko placed a finger on her lips in thought. "Umm… I don't know. Six looks better. So…do you like it?"

Ginjo looked at the cake again. Aside from the fairies, there were also little blue flowers scattered randomly all over the place. Then in the midst of all the flower power, sticking out like a sore thumb, was a tiny sad clown. He wasn't too surprised by it, though. It was something that his sister would draw quite often. Although, at this point, he was the only one who understood its significance. What he couldn't understand was why none of these things that were obviously swimming around in her subconscious would come to the surface. In any case…did Himeko really design the cake for him?…or for herself? He heaved a small sigh. "Yes…flowers and fairies…it's what I've always wanted," he deadpanned. "I feel like a damn princess."

Himeko chuckled at her brother's sarcastic remark and stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "Deal with it." That earned her a light smack to the back of her head, which only made her laugh harder.

* * *

Ginjo entered his room with his gifts and closed the door behind him, glad that the day was finally over. After a ruckus-filled dinner followed by a burnt-cake eating session on retarded paper plates, they finally sent their guests home with enough leftovers to last them at least three days. As soon as they were out the door, Ginjo jumped into the bathroom so he could take a shower and, more importantly, disinfect his face with multiple soap scrubbings. By now, he was simply worn out.

He looked around his room. "Oi. Kon!"

The stuffed lion popped out of his drawer, somewhat agitated. "What?! I was sleeping!"

"Here. You can have these," Ginjo said as he dropped the books that Risa gave him onto the floor.

Kon gasped at the mere sight of the book covers and made his way over to them in no time, touching them just to make sure that they were real. "…for me?" His voice was shaky with disbelief. "…for real?!"

"Yeah," Ginjo replied without much enthusiasm. "So, don't say I never did nothing for ya."

"Ginjo!!" Kon wrapped his cotton-filled arms around the boy's leg, about ready to cry tears of gratitude. "I love you! I love you! I love you! All those times getting the stuffing stepped out of me…it was all worth it!"

"Yeah, whatever," Ginjo said with a sigh. "Just…stick them somewhere I can't see them," he said with a wave of his hand.

"You got it!" Kon assured then proceeded to pick up his new treasure and find them a hiding place.

As Kon scurried off into the closet somewhere, Ginjo looked at the items he had left: a coin, a wrench, and the first volume of Dye. In the end, it would appear that the best thing he got was a manga. Jumping onto his bed, he figured he might as well give it a try.

Just then, there was a knock on his door.

"Yeah?"

The door opened to reveal his father standing at the doorway. "Here," Ichigo said as he tossed something over to the boy. "This is from me and your mother." He folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe, trying to hide his smile as he watched the boy's reactions.

Ginjo looked at the item in his hand and couldn't help but grin. It was a single black glove with the image of a skull on it. "Does this mean you trust me with my powers now?"

"No," Ichigo replied dryly. "It just means that I'm tired of having to help put you back into your body every single time, because you get out even when I tell you not to."

"Well, that works, too," Ginjo replied, his grin not fading in the least. All that really mattered was that he got what he needed.

"Just one thing. The wearer of the glove can't use it to force his own soul out of his body," Ichigo explained. "That means you can't use the glove to get yourself out of your body like my badge can, so you'll still need Kon for that. But at least now you have a way to get back in on your own."

"Don't worry, Ichigo!" Kon said as he charged out of the closet, all fired up. "Just leave it to me! I'll take care of Ginjo!" Then, as quickly as he came out, he retreated back into the closet.

Ichigo raised a brow at the mod soul's unusual enthusiasm on the matter before giving his son a questioning look.

Ginjo merely shrugged his shoulders in response. "Thanks for the glove," he said as he held it up with a smirk. "I'll put it to good use."

Ichigo gave a light laugh. "I'm sure you will." Then he left, closing the door behind him.

Finding himself in a much better mood now, Ginjo settled into his bed and started to read through the pages of Dye where the story began with a character who had the ability to see the invisible: a high school boy who went by the name of Shirosaki Mango…

* * *

A/N: Bringing the vizards back into the story, I suppose this chapter is mostly a glimpse at their early relationship with Ginjo. They'll be back again soon. At that time it might become clearer why certain people brought certain things as gifts. Haha. The whole birthday thing's really more of a backdrop, so if anyone's wondering why the actual celebration has been pretty much skipped over, it's because…well…it's not important. Heh…

The other thing I wanted to get across is that the relationship between Ginjo and Kon isn't entirely abusive. LOL!!

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	9. Deja Vu

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. (Place holder for some yet-to-be-purchased Bleach item.)

* * *

**Ninth Glimpse: Déjà vu**

(Himeko – Age eleven)

He tried everything.

Hinting at things…asking her questions…but nothing Ginjo did would jog Himeko's memory in the slightest. He even went as far as to flat out tell her that the Orihime counterpart in "Dye" was basically her. And in response, she flashed that big smile of hers and said that she knew…because Love told her that the character design was based on her. Thinking back to that moment, he wasn't sure what sort of self-control-enhancing food he might have eaten that day to prevent himself from wringing her neck and shaking her till she came to her senses.

Simply put, Ginjo was frustrated, and he was tired of waiting. But more than that, he was really starting to get worried. Compared to the age that he was at when he regained his memories, Himeko was seriously late. What if the pill that Urahara had given her that night in Las Noches was a dud? It wasn't like those Memory Retaining Pills were a tried and tested product. They probably weren't even legal. More likely than not, Ulquiorra, Orihime, and himself were the guinea pigs…which meant that it was entirely possible that the pills might not all work like they were supposed to. Having arrived at that conclusion, it only made Ginjo all the more agitated.

It couldn't be helped. Since everything else failed, he had to try the idea that he had been keeping as a last resort. Now would be the best time to do it, too, since his mother was currently in Soul Society and won't be due back until tomorrow at the earliest. His father had some huge operation scheduled for today that would most likely keep him tied up at the hospital until pretty late. That meant Ginjo and Himeko would be home alone for a good while.

Standing in the middle of his room, Ginjo looked down at the little green pill in his hand, took a deep breath, and popped it into his mouth. The moment his soul detached from his body, he reached for the rope that he had previously placed on his bed, kicked Kon face down to the floor, and tied his wrists behind his back before the mod soul even knew what was going on.

"Hey!" Kon hollered as he tried to crane his neck back to glare at his assailant who was keeping him down with a knee on his back. "What the heck are you doing?!"

Ginjo narrowed his eyes warningly. "Don't get in the way. Got it?"

Kon swallowed and said nothing. He was pretty used to being threatened by Ginjo, since the boy did it so often. It was so routine that the act didn't really faze him anymore. However, the threats were generally delivered loudly and obnoxiously. It was times when he would do it with such a calm demeanor, like just now, that would make Kon shiver involuntarily. Ginjo didn't do it often, but when he did…it meant he was serious.

While Kon was lost in thought, the young shinigami had already gotten up and left the room. "Oi, Ginjo! Where're you going?!"

Ginjo ignored him and stalked down the stairs where he found his sister in the kitchen standing in front of an opened fridge with a gallon of milk in her hands. Sitting on the counter behind her was an empty glass, a bottle of grape juice, some coffee flavored ice-cream, a can of mandarin oranges, and a bottle of ketchup.

She turned around and smiled when she heard him coming. "Gin-chan! I'm making milkshake! Want some?"

Ginjo looked at the ingredients on the counter and tried not to gag. He then approached his sister, took the milk from her hands, placed it on the counter, and closed the fridge. "You can make it later." He took her wrist in his hand and started tugging her away.

"Eh? But…where are we going?" She was confused to say the least. Her brother was behaving a bit strangely.

"Nowhere." When he finally found wall space, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back gently but firmly up against the wall. Then he locked her in by placing his hands on the wall on either side of her head.

Himeko frowned. She couldn't see his face because he was hanging his head. "Gin-chan? …What's wrong? You're scaring me…"

"Himeko," he said without lifting his head. "I need you to do something for me."

She tilted her head to the side. "What is it?"

He looked up at her then, his expression dead serious. "I need you to fix this."

Before she could even open her mouth to ask what he meant, Ginjo unsheathed his zanpakutou and sliced through his left arm. It wasn't a clean cut, but the blade definitely hit bone.

Her eyes widened as her hands flew to her lips, muffling her scream. An image of a dismembered limb on the floor suddenly flashed across her mind's eye. Her heart raced with confusion as tears of fright welled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. "Wh…what're you doing, Gin-chan?!" she asked shakily.

"Fix it," he said between gritted teeth. With his creased brows and closed eyes, the pain was apparent on his face.

"What're you talking about?!" she asked frantically. "I'm not a doctor! I'll call dad! Or an ambulance! Or Urahara-san!"

She was about to step away when Ginjo stabbed his blade into the wall at her eye level to keep her caged in. "No!"

Startled, she jumped and actually screamed this time. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared at the zanpakutou that was now soaked in her brother's blood. She simply couldn't understand why this was happening, what her brother was thinking.

Ginjo's forehead was already beading with cold sweat. The pain was really starting to get to him. To top it all off, Kon had finally caught up and was now giving him a severe headache by screaming hysterically from somewhere behind him. What about, he wasn't sure since he was in too much agony to pay attention.

Why the heck did it seem to hurt so much more than he remembered?! Was it because it had been so long since the last time he sliced his own arm off? Did it have something to do with the fact that he didn't detach the limb completely? Perhaps it was his younger form? Or maybe it was because he was no longer a hollow? Had he been thinking clearly, he might have realized that it was rather ridiculous that he had maimed himself enough times to actually be able to draw these kinds of comparisons between his experiences.

"You're the only one who can fix this, Himeko," Ginjo ground out with much strain.

Himeko looked at her brother, her head shaking, her breaths coming in short gasps. "I don't know what you're talking about…"

His scowl deepened. "It's _your_ power! You've done this before! Remember already, damn it!" In the heat of the moment, he pounded his left fist against the wall…and immediately regretted it as a new shock of pain shot up his arm and fresh blood gushed out of the sword wound.

She was about to retort when the sight of Ginjo's blood dripping onto the white kitchen floor tiles caught her attention. The bright red against stark white evoked images from another time and another place. It was the two of them in a situation much like this one.

She placed a trembling hand on her forehead, more confused than ever as the foreign, yet somehow familiar, images flashed through her mind. Had she really done this before? Then why couldn't she remember any of it? Could she really help stop the bleeding? But…how was that even possible?! She had no idea what she was supposed to do! Nothing was making sense. She was beginning to panic when Ginjo's voice shook her out of her thoughts.

"Fix it," he repeated, his hand tightening around the hilt of the zanpakutou whose tip was still lodged within the wall. By now, the pain was becoming unbearable, and his patience was waning. "FIX IT NOW!"

Her response was reflexive. "Souten Kishun! I reject!"

Himeko's hairpins came to life and surrounded Ginjo's arm with a healing glow. Before long, the wound sealed up and the tear in the fabric of his shinigami robes disappeared as though nothing had ever happened.

Exhausted from the initial use of her powers, Himeko collapsed into her brother. Feeling drained himself, Ginjo sat down on the floor, holding on to his sister, allowing her the time to absorb everything that had just occurred as she silently leaned against him. Did she actually remember anything? Or did she simply regain her powers? He wasn't sure. All he could do now was wait.

Minutes ticked by before he finally heard the sound of her quiet voice. "Even after being reborn, you're still so reckless."

To that, Ginjo could only grin. She remembered. "If I'm not reckless, then I wouldn't be me."

She scooted out of his embrace so she could frown up at him. "What if I didn't have my powers anymore?!"

"You think I'm stupid? I could sense it in your reiatsu," he said dryly. Not to mention, her hairpins would sparkle from time to time.

"But what if I couldn't remember how to use my powers?!" she argued.

"That would be why I didn't lop the whole thing off," he replied, making it sound as though cutting through just half of his arm was a perfectly fine and sane solution.

"Yeah, but still—"

"I don't wanna hear it," he cut her off. "I've waited _four_ damn years, princess! If anything, I was extremely patient."

"What the heck was all that craziness?!" Kon hollered, reminding the siblings of his presence. When he first came into the kitchen and saw Ginjo cut himself, Kon had screamed at the top of his lungs for the boy to stop. With his hands still bound behind his back, there really wasn't much else he could have done. It wasn't until Himeko began to heal Ginjo that Kon's ignored outbursts finally came to a stop, replaced by stunned silence. However, even though what was done had been undone, it still didn't make things any clearer for the mod soul.

"Shock therapy," Ginjo replied simply.

Kon blinked. Did he hear that right? The boy did all that just to reawaken his sister's latent powers? It was such an unbelievably _stupid_ thing to do that Kon was at a loss for words. "Well…you didn't have to shock me, too!" he blurted lamely.

"Shut up! You came down here on your own!" Ginjo pointed out. "And if you say anything about this to anyone, I'll snip off your eyes and sew 'em to your ass!"

For some odd reason, Kon felt relieved. Not that he liked the idea of having eyes on his ass, but Ginjo was yelling obnoxious threats at him again. It seemed things were back to normal. Still, he couldn't stop his tears as his knees hit the floor with exhaustion. "_You_ shut up!" he yelled with a sniffle. "I was so worried, you idiot!"

"Stop crying, dumbass!" Ginjo said with a glare, but Kon paid him no heed.

With a roll of his eyes, the boy turned his attention back to his sister who was still sitting in front of him but with her head hanging now. "Hey…you ok?"

"…you came," she mumbled.

Ginjo quirked a questioning brow. "What?"

"You came after me," she restated.

_Oh. That._ Ginjo heaved a small sigh and looked away. "You pretty much forced our hand, didn't you?"

Himeko clenched her hands together on her lap, still unwilling to look up. He was right. That had been her intention…or rather, her desperate hope…when she swallowed the Memory Retaining Pill without first speaking with either him or Ulquiorra. Had she waited to talk it through with them, the probability of them…especially Grimmjow…not wanting to take the chance would have been high. Then she would have to go to Soul Society while the two of them remained in Hueco Mundo. Where would that get them? But if she were to go on ahead first, then they may be more inclined to follow. Of course, there had been no guarantee that they would. It was a huge gamble, but it was one she believed worth taking for the chance to be together again.

"Are you…mad at me?" she asked meekly.

He shrugged. "Maybe. But since I still got badass powers, I guess I can let it slide. If I were born an average schmo, then I would've been pissed for sure."

She played with her fingers tensely as she looked off to the side. "Ulquiorra…he came, too?"

He almost laughed at her question. "Do you even have to ask?" He thought that would have been obvious.

At that point, she finally looked up at him with a bit of hope in her eyes. "Then…do you know where…?"

He gave another shrug. "How the heck should I know?" he responded in an offhanded tone of voice. "He's not in Karakura, that's for sure."

She wilted visibly at that response.

He scowled. "We got time, you know."

"Yeah…" she replied dispiritedly.

He grumbled. "Oi. Instead of getting all depressed about it, you should be glad that _I'm_ the one who ended up as your brother instead of him. That would've _really_ screwed things up."

She chuckled lightly at his words. "Yeah… I guess you're right." They may not be together yet, but at least she knew all three of them were now in the living world. Not to mention, Ginjo was already here. Her situation was actually much better than she could have ever hoped for…and stranger than she could have ever dreamed of. She was now the daughter of her former nakama, and her father was someone she had once been in love with. Things really couldn't get weirder than that. Though, with the way her past lives had been…and the way her life was going now…maybe they could.

Off to his side, Ginjo noticed that Kon was still sniffling away. "I said stop crying already, damn it! Those are _my_ tear ducts! Quit turning me into a pansy!!"

* * *

He smiled when he saw her step through the threshold of the store, but that smile dimmed, ever so slightly, when he heard what she had come to say.

"My memories came back!" Himeko beamed. "I remember now! Even my powers of rejection are back!"

With the smile frozen on his features, Urahara's pause was perhaps a second too long for it to be natural. He had known this day would come. Nonetheless, it didn't necessarily mean that he was prepared to face it…to face her. "I'm glad…Inoue-san."

Himeko blinked at the man's sudden formality and use of her old name. Then she scratched her head and averted her eyes with a small laugh, feeling somewhat awkward. "Eheheh…well…um…"

He settled into a sitting position on the floor, tucking his arms into his sleeves. "You came to ask me a question, am I right?" he said, breaking the awkward silence.

"Eh?!" She raised her brows in surprise. "That's amazing, Urahara-san! How did you know?!"

"Because your brother did the very same thing when his memories returned to him," he explained. "And I'm sorry, but…I don't know where he is," he said, his expression neutral.

"Oh…well…that's ok," she replied, though her spirits took a noticeable dive. "Just thought I'd check with you first." In truth, Ginjo had already told her what Urahara had said to him about not knowing Ulquiorra's whereabouts. However, her brother thought that she should come and ask again anyway, because the exiled shinigami might have a different answer for her…whatever that was supposed to mean.

"I truly am sorry," Urahara repeated solemnly.

"Oh, no! It's perfectly fine!" Himeko said, shaking her head and hands frantically to reassure him. "I mean…I knew from the start that it wasn't going to be easy, right? I'm lucky enough as it is, being reborn as dad's…I mean Kurosaki-kun's…I mean…" She frowned in thought. She was going to have to devote some time to sorting out her relationship with her former classmate slash nakama slash object of affection turned father in her head. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I'm back here with everyone again! I'm just…" she placed her hands behind her back and gave a light shrug, "a little smaller. And none of it would have been possible if it weren't for you. So…thank you…for everything you've done for me."

He nearly scoffed at her words. Had he truly done anything for her? From his perspective, all he'd been doing was try to compensate for what he had already taken from her. It certainly wasn't anything that deserved praise or gratitude.

Slowly but casually, he brought a hand up to adjust his hat as though attempting to conceal his eyes even deeper within its shadow. "Inoue-san…there is nothing that you should ever have to thank me for."

Her expression saddened as she turned her eyes to the floor. Had she known that her awakened memories would do this to him, she would have kept quiet about it. "Urahara-san…I don't regret giving up my life as Orihime to reject the hougyoku," she stated quietly. "I'm happy with the way things turned out. I used to be an orphan, but now I have loving parents and a protective older brother. I can look forward to seeing Ulquiorra again someday. And I also have you. I hope you can see it my way."

When she looked up to see his mouth slightly agape, looking somewhat dumbstruck, she couldn't help but burst into a light chuckle. That had to be the first time she'd ever seen him wear that particular expression. "I better go before Gin-chan starts to worry," she said. Then, just before she stepped over the threshold again, she remembered something and turned around. "Oh, and…Urahara-san?"

The man looked at her mutely.

"I like it better when you call me Himeko-chan," she said, smiling shyly. "_You're_ the one who gave me that name, right?" she asked rhetorically with a small pout. "Then please use it, or else I'd feel stupid." There was a slight reprimanding tone in her voice as she held up a finger to emphasize her point. With that said, she flashed him the biggest smile she had to offer and started to head home.

Even as Urahara watched her retreating back, he was still unable to find his words. He had fully expected that, no matter how affectionate she had been towards him over the past eleven years, no matter how much trust he had gained from her while her mind was still a clean slate, once those memories returned, she would hold at least _something_ against him. The girl truly was benevolence incarnate.

"Well, that was interesting."

He turned his head to find that a black cat had curled up beside him.

"I really thought you would have told her about him," Yoruichi continued casually.

"Where would be the fun in that?" he asked, managing a weak smile.

She rolled her eyes at his false reply and sighed. "Kisuke…everyone has already forgiven you a long time ago. Even Ichigo. And it looks like Himeko never even placed any blame on you to begin with. … Don't you think it's time you forgave yourself?"

Urahara didn't respond. Truth was, while he was greatly relieved that Himeko didn't despise him, on some level, the fact that she didn't blame him either actually made him feel worse.

After having sat relatively motionless for so long, he stood up and stretched out his arms with a sigh. When he turned back to Yoruichi, he was his usual self again, that annoyingly cheeky grin fully in place. "Yoruichi-san, I just remembered that I have to go buy something for Tessai. He ran out of diarrhea medicine."

Yoruichi narrowed her eyes, not amused in the least. "Are you ignoring me, bastard?!"

"Would you like me to get something for you as well? You look somewhat constipated."

She closed her eyes with a frown as she hissed his name. "Kisuke…!"

"No? Are you sure? All right then, I'm off!" He strolled out of the store with that practiced carefree demeanor of his.

Yoruichi heaved a sigh of exasperation, cursing him under her breath. She really hated it when he did that.

* * *

A/N: Ah, how I miss Grimmjow's self-maiming recklessness. So, here's a bit of a reprise. LOL! Incidentally, Himeko fixed the bloody hole that Ginjo cut into the wall with his zanpakutou…otherwise, Ichigo would definitely freak out if he were to see it. Heh…

I'm rather curious to know what your reactions were to Ginjo's methods and Urahara's sort of moment of vulnerability, since the first is kinda "out there" and the latter is a rare occurrence. Haha! Feedback on that would be great!

Many thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	10. Vice Versa

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I just got volume 24 with Grimm on the cover. Whee!

* * *

**Tenth Glimpse: Vice Versa**

(Uriya – Age twelve)

Filling the ladle with soup from the boiling pot, he transferred the hot liquid to the bowl, careful not to spill. When the bowl was filled, he set the ladle aside, turned off the stove, and hopped off the stepping stool. Uriya didn't really mind cooking, but he'd be grateful when he would finally be tall enough to no longer require the stool in order to do so.

He placed the bowl on a tray and carried it upstairs. Upon opening the bedroom door, the boy stood silently in the doorway, a slight frown appearing on his features as he looked at the man in the bed with his head under the covers. A continuous faint clicking sound could be heard coming from the bed.

"Put the phone down," the boy finally said. Though his voice was quiet, it was also demanding.

The man froze briefly then slumped visibly with a heavy sigh, making it look as though the bed sheets had deflated as his form sank limply into the bed. Moments later, his hand emerged from under the covers, holding up his cell phone…his white flag.

Uriya placed the tray on the bedside table, took the phone from his father's hand, and sat down in the chair by the bed. "I told you to sleep."

Uryuu pulled the covers away, revealing a slightly agitated tired face. "I just have one…two…no, three messages I have to send. Then I'll be a happy sick person," he said, his voice nearly hoarse beyond recognition.

"No," the boy said flatly. "You can be miserable like every other sick person." His father was a workaholic. After those three messages, he would have a phone call to make, and then another, and another. If he let him, this could go on all day. "Surely, your people can handle one day without you. It's just fabrics, colors, and drawings after all. Nothing that will decide the fate of the world."

Uryuu placed an arm over his eyes and made a whimpering sound. Although he had always taught the boy that honesty was the best, Uriya's particular brand of honesty can really hurt sometimes. "_Just _fabrics, colors, and drawings…I can't believe my own son would say that. Isn't it bad enough that you won't even model for me?"

Uriya looked away, silently quelling his deep-rooted irritation. "Standing in the middle of the living room while you play dress up is hardly considered modeling. You already have more than enough mannequins to use. It's a pointless activity." Not to mention, half of the clothes his father wanted him to 'model' were meant for members of the opposite sex, and most pieces tended to have frills on them. His pride as a living being simply wouldn't allow him to go through with that kind of nonsense.

"Mannequins aren't the same," Uryuu sulked. "They can't move to let me see how the materials flow with motion. And they can't tell me whether or not it's comfortable."

"Then hire someone to do it."

"But you'd look _good_ in them," the man finally admitted. Truth was, there were already models at his design studio that did this sort of thing. Uryuu just really wanted to see his boy wear the more stylish things he designed. Was that so much to ask for? As a designer, he thought that was a pretty reasonable request.

Uriya took a moment to just stare expressionlessly at his father. "…Please don't make me hurt you." Everything he wore was already an Ishida Uryuu personally handmade product. Honestly…what more did the man want from him?

Uryuu sighed dejectedly. "Don't you want my business?"

"No."

Uryuu didn't really expect him to say yes. Nonetheless, that immediate and unwavering negative reply still felt like a straight arrow, aiming for his heart. Perhaps he could at least take _some_ comfort in knowing that the boy was truly a Quincy through and through. Straight arrow…perfect aim…

"Since you're not sleeping anyway, you should eat something," Uriya said.

Uryuu looked over to the bedside table, only now noticing the bowl of soup. Slowly, he sat himself up in his bed as the boy placed the tray on his lap for him.

"After you eat, you should take your medicine and go back to sleep," the child instructed.

"Right, right," the man replied. Then he said, almost under his breath, "Am I the father here, or are you?"

"That's irrelevant," the boy said, a small smirk of amusement playing across his lips. "At the moment, I am the stronger one, and you are the sick and weak."

"I see…so that's how the hierarchy works," Uryuu commented as he brought the spoon to his lips, feeling rather pathetic that the boy had to do all this for him. With the amount of income he made, he could easily hire a house full of servants. He just wasn't comfortable with the idea of having strangers running around in his home and could never understand how anybody else could stand it either. He was a rather private person after all. But, at times like this when his and Uriya's roles reversed, he often wondered if his decisions may have inadvertently placed an extra burden on the boy's shoulders.

Uryuu was so absorbed in his thoughts that it wasn't until the bowl was half empty that he noticed the light and sweet flavor of the soup. It probably didn't help that his sense of taste was already dulled with sickness to begin with. "What is this?" he asked curiously.

"Soup."

"I can see that," Uryuu said, almost rolling his eyes. "I mean what kind of soup? I don't think I've ever had this before."

"Ah," the boy said, now comprehending the question. "It's just a simple vegetable soup. There are fruits in it, though. It's good for colds, flu, and the like. I used to make it."

"Oh," Uryuu said as he put another spoonful of the unfamiliar, yet delicious, soup into his mouth. _So, it was the fruits that made it sweet._ Then he frowned as the boy's words sank in. "You used to make it? You mean…in Las Noches?" That seemed rather strange.

"No. In my previous life."

As he blinked at the boy, Uryuu thought that his ears must have been plugging up. "…what?"

"The last time I was human," Uriya reworded.

"You remember things from your past life?!" Uryuu asked with the look of disbelief on his face.

"You weren't surprised when you realized I had regained my memories as a hollow," the boy calmly pointed out. "Why are you surprised to know that I have memories from before then?"

"Well…that's true, I suppose…" the Quincy said, uncertainty in his voice as he pondered on the thought. Since the boy was already defying the laws of existence in one way, what made him think that he wouldn't be defying it in some other way as well? "Still…I thought all hollows forget their identities when they lose their hearts."

"They do," the boy affirmed. "I was only fortunate enough to get mine back"…fortunate to have gotten it back before it was too late. If he hadn't, things would have turned out quite differently. Not just for the world and his relationship with Grimmjow and Orihime, but his relationship with the man sitting before him now would have been drastically different as well.

His father had once told him about the role he played in the Las Noches invasion. He had said that before he teamed up with Abarai Renji against Szayel Aporro Granz, he had first passed through an empty room. From the descriptions of the room, Uriya knew that that had been _his_ domain. Had he not regained his memories and disobeyed Aizen's orders, he would have fought Ishida Uryuu that night and, without a doubt, killed him with his bare hands. After all, if the Quincy barely made it out alive fighting two against one with the eighth Espada…there was no way he would have survived fighting one on one with the fourth. It was frightening to think how one decision could alter their fates so much.

To Uryuu, this was probably the once-in-a-lifetime perfect opportunity that he had been waiting for to find out more about Uriya's past. Unfortunately for him, his cell phone started to ring before he could even utter a word. Suddenly switching gears, he quickly reached for the device, but the boy beat him to it.

"Hello," Uriya said, tonelessly. He paused briefly as the other party spoke. "No. This is Ishida Uriya. … My apologies, but he has fallen ill and will not be coming to work today."

Uryuu was already beginning to feel the knot developing in his stomach. Though the boy offered an apology, he certainly didn't sound very apologetic.

"… Then I suggest you either reschedule the meeting or find someone else to take his place," the boy continued, his apathetic tone carrying an intimidating undertone despite his youthful voice.

Uryuu held his breath and watched as his son listened patiently. The boy's features darkened ever so slightly as the person on the other end of the line continued to speak…most likely listing out the various issues that required attention, hoping that would persuade the child to put him on the phone. All Uryuu could think of was…this person should have known better.

"… Mr. Nadel," Uriya said when the other person finally stopped talking. "You are the company's head of management, are you not? … Then please do your job. If you are incapable of managing anything for just one day without him, I fail to see why you have been hired." By now, his inner Ulquiorra was definitely coming to the surface and working at full force. "… Yes. Please do. He should be back in the morning, and he expects everything to be handled perfectly." With that said, he hung up and slipped the phone into his pocket.

_Ouch…_ Uryuu winced, feeling for Nadel. It couldn't have been fun, being told off by a twelve-year-old. Not to mention, this wasn't the first time either. Uriya generally didn't care much about his work. However, whenever Uryuu got sick, the boy would temporarily set aside his usual reserved nature and take over like a possessed commander. Uryuu sometimes wondered how the adults could get so overwhelmed by the words of a child. Then again, Uriya's speech pattern was so mature for his age that sometimes _that_ alone was enough to stupefy whomever he was speaking to into speechlessness. Uryuu actually thought it was kind of cute, but he was sure that his employees who had been unlucky enough to try to call him when he was sick would beg to differ.

The ailing Quincy heaved an inward sigh. He'd have to remember to apologize to poor Nadel tomorrow. Perhaps even buy him a bottle of wine…and chocolates. "You know, the people who work for me are just average men and women. They're not soldiers. No need to be so strict and unforgiving."

"Incompetence should not be tolerated, no matter what profession you're in," the boy replied, matter of fact, as he took the tray away from his father and handed him a glass of water and two pills.

Uryuu took the medication and emptied the glass. "You do realize that the only reason they let you get away with that attitude is because you're my son, right?"

"Of course," Uriya said, a small smirk on his lips. "And I intend to make use of that privilege as the situation requires."

Uryuu slumped his shoulders. "So, basically…I better not get sick again."

"Nadel mentioned you have a business trip coming up next week," Uriya said, changing the subject. "Where are you going?"

"Ah," Uryuu said. "Somewhere you've never been to before." Heck, it was in a country even Uryuu had never been to. As his business continued to expand, more and more often, he found himself going to places he'd never even heard of or thought about visiting before. He looked at the boy, knowing full well what was on his mind. "Want to come?"

"Yes," the young Quincy replied simply.

"I'll book you a seat on the flight then," the man said without second thought.

Uryuu noticed that his son seemed to have developed an appetite for traveling in the past two years. Aside from going on their vacation trips, the boy would often accompany him on his business trips as well. He didn't mind it, since he would rather not leave the child at home alone anyway, and skipping a couple of days of school here and there didn't seem to have any effect on the boy's grades.

What had him perplexed was the fact that Uriya never seemed particularly interested in seeing any of the landmarks upon reaching their destinations. Instead, he would spend his time taking endless walks in quiet neighborhoods…definitely _not_ your typical tourist activity. True, the kid _was_ a super antisocial oddball. Nonetheless, he did this with such persistence that Uryuu couldn't help but think that he was trying to accomplish something. However, since the boy would always dodge his questions on the matter, Uryuu had yet to find out what that something was.

"We'll be leaving next Wednesday evening, returning on Saturday," Uryuu supplied. "And just so you know," he added with a small grin, "Nadel will be coming with us."

Uriya blinked at the man then gave another smirk. "Thanks for the warning, but I'm not the one who needs the mental preparation." He took the empty glass from his father's hand, placed it on the tray with the empty bowl, and picked up the whole thing as he stood to leave. "Perhaps you should tell _him_ that I will be coming as well."

Uryuu chuckled as he lay back down to sleep. _If I did that, I might have to start looking for a new manager._

Uriya left the room, closing the door behind him.

Half way down the hall, the boy came to a stop as a thought occurred to him. Setting the tray on the floor, he retraced his steps back to his father's room, reentering without making a sound. Standing beside the bed, watching the figure that was once again completely submerged under the covers, he heaved a silent sigh. "Give me your other phone."

After a drawn out moment, a sigh of resignation escaped from under the covers. Eventually, a hand emerged reluctantly, holding the cell phone.

Uriya snatched the phone, walked out, and closed the door once more.

* * *

A/N: It's been a while since I updated this quickly. I'm semi-proud of myself. LOL! And actually, Uriya's making a reappearance sooner than I had originally planned. I hope that makes some of you happy. Heh…

Nadel is a German last name that, according to this one website, means "needle". I thought that goes well with what Uryuu does for a living.

The soup is a figment of my imagination. I have no idea if there is a vegetable/fruit soup that's good for colds and such…though I wouldn't be surprised if there is. My friend told me she once had soup that was made with honeydew melons at some restaurant. I thought that was interesting. Would love to try it.

I guess normally parents wouldn't let their kids go wandering around on their own in random neighborhoods in foreign places. But then Uriya's not really an average kid, so it's not too much of a concern. Potential kidnappers might actually be at risk of being either talked down by the kid or beaten down by him. LOL!

Anyway, many thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	11. Tempting Fate

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I now own the second DVD box set.

* * *

**Eleventh Glimpse: Tempting Fate**

(Ginjo – Age thirteen)

He had been sitting on his heels for so long, he couldn't feel his legs anymore. More importantly, Ichigo had been sitting in the Kuchiki estate in the company of Kuchiki Byakuya for so long, he was becoming severely bored out of his mind. Not that he had anything against the man, but to Ichigo, coming here for a visit with Rukia had become the epitome of utmost boredom. He had long since ran out of things to talk about, resorting to counting the tatami mats in the excessively large room they were currently in to help him pass the time while Rukia and Byakuya continued to talk. If this went on any longer, he just might have to start counting the squares in the shoji screens.

Ichigo withheld a sigh as he glanced over at the Kuchiki siblings and mused for a bit. There was definitely an elegant rhythm to their conversation. They would take a sip of their tea and then set their cups down. Then Byakuya would speak…in typical Byakuya too-formal-to-be-comfortable fashion, of course…and Rukia would reply with a similar dignified stiffness. After that…a pause. Then they'd gracefully pick up their teacups, and the cycle would repeat itself. It was all fine and good, but what Ichigo would never understand was why it had to happen in such _slooooooooooooow _motion.

Silently, the orange-haired man wished that they had brought the kids with them. Better yet, he wished that he were home with the kids.

Ginjo and Himeko didn't come to Soul Society nearly as often as Rukia and Ichigo did for various reasons. First of all, the journey through the Dangai to get to Soul Society wasn't exactly the equivalent of a stroll in the park. Though with Ginjo being able to use shunpo now, this was namely just a concern for Himeko at this point.

Another reason was that, like father like son, Ginjo didn't enjoy being at the Kuchiki estate for an extended period of time either. However, unlike his father, the boy wouldn't just sit around and let his legs go numb. He would get antsy and simply take off, with or without permission. The last thing Ichigo needed was for the boy to accidentally run into Kenpachi while wandering around Seireitei. That man was crazy, and Ginjo was even crazier. Ichigo could think of a million things that could happen if those two were to cross paths, and none of them were particularly good.

Despite the fact that the children didn't come visit much, it didn't mean that they had little contact with their uncle. Himeko would often draw pictures for her parents to bring to Byakuya. And as of late, Ginjo had taken to writing the man letters.

While Rukia…being the doting mother that she was…would beam with pride and compliment the boy whenever he handed her a sealed letter to take to his uncle, the whole letter writing thing just made Ichigo nervous. Knowing Ginjo, his letters certainly wouldn't say, "Dear Uncle Byakuya, I love you and miss you very much. Your nephew, Ginjo"…or anything along those lines. The boy wasn't even the letter writing type to begin with. It all just seemed rather suspicious.

Just as Ichigo's train of thought reached this point, as if on cue, Rukia took out a folded piece of paper along with a sealed envelope from the folds of her robes and presented them to her brother. "Nii-sama, these are from the children," she said with a gentle smile.

Byakuya eyed the items with about as much enthusiasm as a dead bear before reaching out and taking them from his sister's hands. Wordlessly, he unfolded the piece of paper and began to look over his niece's latest masterpiece.

If Byakuya had to describe Himeko's artwork with one word it would have to be 'nonsensical'. To this day, he had yet to be able to make sense out of any of it, and this time was no different. It was a colored pencil drawing depicting a scene with metallic beings the girl called robots engaging in battle with various ambiguous looking furry animals wearing colorful tights in a field of rabbit-eared sunflowers while a group of winged cats sat on a rainbow above, holding fishing poles with carrots dangling from the hooks.

What compelled the girl to draw such things, Byakuya didn't know. Nevertheless, even though he didn't understand the drawings, it didn't necessarily mean that he didn't look forward to seeing what his niece might draw next time to amuse him with. Folding up the drawing, he set it aside to be carefully stored away later along with all the other artwork Himeko had made for him since the age of three.

Byakuya then turned his attention to the envelope, taking a moment to simply stare apathetically at his name that had been written in Ginjo's chicken scratch. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he opened the letter and began to read:

_Yo, Byakuya-ji!_

_Mom told me you had a birthday not too long ago. Sorry, I missed it. I'm sure it must have been a riot since Kuchikis are such party animals and all._

_Speaking of birthdays, how many centuries old are you now? You aren't getting any younger, you know. So, when are you gonna find yourself another woman so you can get married and have yourself a kid? We worry about you. Mostly, __**I**__ worry about you. At this rate, if anything happens to you…not that I'm saying anything's gonna happen to you…then my mom will have to take over as head of the Kuchikis, which means suddenly __**I'm**__ gonna be next in line. That's just gonna suck all the way around. I'm sure you'll agree, so…you really gotta get on this one._

_Anyway, hope to hear back from ya. Until then…well, guess I'll just keep writing. You are, after all, my favorite uncle, and your zanpakutou kicks major ass…even if it __**is**__ kinda girly._

_Ginjo_

Ichigo kept unblinking eyes on Byakuya to make sure he wouldn't miss any minute reactions the man might give. Unfortunately for him, Byakuya's expression was as impossible to read as ever. The muscles in his face were so still that Ichigo often wondered if they might be suffering from some sort of permanent paralysis. But even though Ichigo could never see any physical reactions, he always got the feeling that the temperature in the room would drop a few degrees whenever Byakuya read one of Ginjo's letters.

"So, what did he say?" Ichigo finally asked. He couldn't hold back anymore. He had to know.

"Ichigo!" Rukia turned to him with a disapproving frown. "You shouldn't ask something like that!"

"What? I was just asking."

"It's rude! Besides," she clasped her hands together, going into cloud nine mode again, "it's the bonding between uncle and nephew. You shouldn't interfere."

Ichigo looked away with a heavy sigh. Her perception of the situation had obviously been completely skewed by her feelings of love.

By now, Byakuya was already on his feet, tucking the folded letter into his robes. "If you could wait here for a while," he began, his voice filled with the usual calm dignity, "I would like you to deliver something to Ginjo for me."

Rukia could hardly contain her glee as her eyes widened and her expression practically glowed. "Of course, Nii-sama!"

Ichigo was left with shock as Byakuya walked out of the room. After getting a number of letters from Ginjo, this was the first time that Byakuya was actually responding. Instead of being in bliss like Rukia was, Ichigo thought it was probably more appropriate to be scared instead.

* * *

Ichigo slapped a sealed envelope onto the table in front of Ginjo.

The boy looked from the envelope up to his father. "What's this?" he asked dully.

"A letter from Byakuya," Ichigo said simply.

Ginjo perked up. "Seriously?" He tore open the envelope, his heart filled with anticipation as he wondered how his uncle would respond:

_To my esteemed nephew,_

_Thank you for your thoughtful letters. Rest assured that your words of love, admiration, and concern have been taken to heart._

_Your mother has informed me of your continually improving combat skills. Senbonzakura Kageyoshi eagerly awaits your next arrival._

_Kuchiki Byakuya_

Translation: 'You little twerp, I will definitely remember this. The next time you set foot on Seireitei, I will go bankai on your ass.'

Thanks to years of exposure to Ukita's, and later Ulquiorra's, way of speaking, it was no problem for Ginjo to read between the lines of all that formal jargon. He could do nothing but grin from ear to ear. He had been pestering his dear uncle for a while now, trying to get a rise out of him, and finally he was getting results.

"I'm coming with you the next time you go to Soul Society to see Byakuya-ji," the boy declared as he looked up at his father.

Ichigo scowled. _This can't be good._ "Why? You hate going to his place."

Ginjo shrugged lightly, still grinning. "He made an offer I can't turn down."

Ichigo's hand went to his forehead, commencing headache-relieving temples-massaging action. _This __**really**__ can't be good…_

* * *

A/N: His name had been mentioned a few times here and there, but I guess this is the first time Byakuya-ji actually made an appearance…even if it _is_ in the shortest chapter ever.

And Ginjo…picking fights with all the big guys. You kind of have to wonder what's going through his head. Definitely not consequences, that's for sure. LOL!

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	12. Affections Redefined

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I kind of want a music box that plays "Always be with me in Mind" from the first Bleach movie.

* * *

**Twelfth Glimpse: Affections Redefined**

(Himeko – Age twelve)

When she opened her eyes, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the hospital bed. Slowly blinking a few times as her mind attempted to clear the dazed feeling, her eyes wandered around the moonlit room until they found the silhouette of a familiar figure. "Dr. Kurosaki…?" she asked into the darkness.

Ichigo stepped out of the shadows and approached the teenager, his expression grim. "Emiko…"

"Didn't I say you need to stop working so late?" she chided mildly with a roll of her eyes. "What are you still doing here? And…" she quirked a brow as she looked him up and down. "…what's with the weird getup?" She chuckled lightly at his black robes from who-knows-which era. "Is there a costume party at the hospital today or something?" When he didn't respond but scowled deeper instead, Emiko dropped her smile. "What's wrong?"

"Emiko…" Ichigo repeated, finding it difficult to continue. "I'm sorry…" He turned his eyes to the head of the bed.

Following his line of sight, Emiko turned her head to find herself still lying on the bed. She jumped back with a gasp of surprise. "But…how…?" She looked down at her hands and, in doing so, caught sight of the severed Chain of Fate hanging from her chest. Her hand grasped onto the chain as she frowned with confusion and fear. "What _is_ this?!" She turned her eyes up to her doctor, hoping for answers.

"…I'm really sorry," he apologized again. "Do you remember what happened?"

She sat motionless, her features stunned, as her mind tried to recall recent events. When it did, her jaws slacked and she brought her shaky hands up to cover her lips. She remembered the pain…the beeping of the monitors…the nurses rushing in. The last thing she saw before everything faded to black was her orange-haired doctor hovering over her, working at a frantic pace.

Emiko looked at her body then at herself again, just to verify that she wasn't seeing things. "…so…I guess I didn't make it…" she said dejectedly. She had always been sickly even as a child. In recent years, she'd been spending so much time in the hospital that she probably saw her doctor more than she did her own parents.

"You…don't seem too surprised," Ichigo observed.

She shrugged, her eyes downcast. "With my health steadily deteriorating…I pretty much realized that I didn't have much longer to live." She took a deep breath and exhaled, forcing a smile on her lips. "I…actually haven't felt this good in years. Ironic, huh?"

Ichigo wasn't sure how to reply. No matter how many times he did this, it never got any easier. The fact that the patient he'd lost was young only made it twice as hard.

"I'm a ghost now, right?" she asked, her question breaking into his thoughts. She had always believed that there was an afterlife. At least…she had always hoped that there'd be one. "So…how come you can see me, doc?"

"I'm here to help you cross over," he replied downheartedly.

She quirked a questioning brow. "Do _all_ doctors do this?"

Ichigo gave a halfhearted laugh. "No. Just me."

Emiko tilted her head. "Are you like some kind of angel then?" she asked, her curiosity temporarily taking her mind off of the fact that she had just passed away. She had read a lot of books about ghosts and other supernatural beings, but she had never seen an angel portrayed in black robes sporting a gigantic kitchen knife on his back before. This was all actually rather interesting.

"A shinigami," he corrected.

"Shinigami?" _God of death…_ That didn't sound good. "Am I going to hell?"

"Don't worry," he reassured. "There's no hell." There was a Hueco Mundo, but she didn't need to know that just yet. "You'll be going to Soul Society. That's where all souls go."

"Oh." She breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Then…will I see my dead relatives there?"

"Maybe."

"Will I see you?"

"Possibly."

Emiko twisted her lips. "You're being really vague."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"That's the third time you apologized to me," she noted.

Ichigo averted his eyes. "That's because…I couldn't…"

Her expression saddened as she gave a slight shrug. "You did everything you could." She knew that to be true. Her doctor was often here at ungodly hours because of her.

"I never liked using that excuse," Ichigo replied dully.

Emiko frowned, beginning to feel annoyed. "Isn't this kinda backwards?" she deadpanned. "I'm the one who just died here. Why am I trying to cheer you up?"

"I'm sor…" He caught himself and stopped.

The girl sighed. "So. How does this crossing over thing work? Is there some bright light that's gonna come down and suck me up?"

Ichigo blinked at her. "You're thinking about an alien abduction," he said dryly. This girl…she really did read way too much about the paranormal.

Emiko scratched her face with her finger in thought. "Oh, right. Crossing over is the white light in the tunnel I'm supposed to walk into, right?"

He gave a weak smirk. "It doesn't quite work that way either."

"Then how?"

Ichigo reached his hand over his shoulder for Zangetsu. "It's quick and painless. I put a stamp on your forehead with the hilt of my blade, and you cross over."

"That's it?" She was disappointed. "The truth is kinda boring. Lacks grace, too."

Ichigo scratched the back of his head. "There's a butterfly involved?"

She didn't hear him. She simply sat, her eyes glazed over as the reality of her situation finally began to sink in.

He gave her a moment then placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort, yet, full of regret. "Are you ready?"

She wasn't, but…she didn't really have much choice. She nodded mechanically.

"Take care, Emiko." Ichigo performed konsou, and Emiko's spirit disappeared just in time to miss the sight of her family rushing in through the door. The shinigami stepped back, silently taking his leave as loved ones gathered around the bed to grieve the loss of one so young. He was glad that Emiko didn't have to see this, for it would only make the parting that much more difficult.

* * *

Not even bothering to turn on the lights, he plopped onto the couch and leaned his head back with a heavy sigh, feeling completely drained after a particularly long day. For Ichigo, being a doctor and working at the hospital was sometimes like a double-edged sword. On one hand, it was gratifying because he could save people in a way other than just fighting hollows. On the other hand, he was reminded more often than he liked that he couldn't save everyone. Whenever he lost a patient, he could send them to Soul Society before they could be endangered by hollows. At the same time, having to face the spirits of the ones he couldn't save was definitely not an easy or pleasant thing to do.

He stared dully at the ceiling. As tired as he was, he probably won't be able to sleep a wink tonight.

Unbeknownst to Ichigo, a pair of eyes had been watching him this entire time. "Um…dad?" whispered a quiet voice.

Ichigo turned his head to find Himeko peeking at him from the side of the couch. Only the top half of her head was visible above the armrest. "What are you doing out of bed at this hour, Himeko?"

"Nothing," she said, looking off to the side. "I just heard you come back, so…"

He sighed. She had developed this bad habit of waiting up for him whenever he'd come home late. "Well," he said, patting a spot on the couch beside him, "no point in hiding now that you've announced your presence."

"Oh," she said, feeling a bit silly as she stood up and came around to sit on the couch. "Um…I was just wondering…is there something I can do to help at the hospital?" From the way he carried himself, she could tell that her father must have had a rough day at work. Now that her powers had reawakened, even though they were weaker than before because she was still young, perhaps she could lend a hand.

Ichigo looked at his daughter for a moment, remembering what a surprise it had been when he and Rukia found out that when she had regained her powers, somehow her memories from her past life came along with it. Out of the blue one day, the girl just started to nonchalantly mention things from way back when. It was unexpected, but since they already had one kid with past life memories, it wasn't too difficult to adjust to.

"Working at the hospital is my job, not yours," he finally replied. "You have your own life to live. Besides, if you used your powers to keep everyone alive, there'd be an imbalance of souls between the living world and Soul Society." That aside, he would never forget that there were consequences to the overuse of her powers.

Ichigo turned his attention out to the night sky, a distant look in his eyes. "…When it's a person's natural time to go, we should let them go. Dying isn't the end. You of all people should know that."

Himeko looked down and simply nodded, wondering if he was trying to convince her or himself with that last part. "Mm."

"How are your karate lessons coming?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Great!" she beamed. "Tatsuki-chan says that I'm really starting to get the hang of it!"

"Starting to get the hang of it, huh?" he repeated with a raised brow. "That's not how _she_ puts it. Tatsuki told me you're practically her star pupil."

"Eheheh…" she scratched her cheek with embarrassment. "Well…I think she might be a bit bias."

Ichigo smiled, feeling fortunate about how things turned out with his childhood friend. It hadn't always been this way. When he returned from Hueco Mundo without Orihime and had to tell Tatsuki that her best friend wasn't ever going to come back, their friendship nearly fell apart. She beat him up on the spot, and he didn't try to resist. In the end, it was Rukia who explained everything to her. About Soul Society…about hollows…about the hougyoku…and about Orihime's sacrifice. It had taken years for Tatsuki to truly forgive him, and when she did, he found out that she had been angrier with him for not trusting her enough to tell her anything than she had been about his inability to save Orihime.

The day Ichigo told Tatsuki that his newborn daughter was Orihime, that was the only time he had ever seen her cry so freely. From then on, they began to see more of each other again. And now, Himeko had been taking lessons from her for about a year.

Seeing the two of them reconnecting the way they did was definitely a good thing. He just wasn't sure how he felt about Himeko's sudden passion for martial arts. He could certainly understand and relate to her need to be stronger, but it was heartbreaking to know how insecure she felt about what she perceived to be her own lack of strength.

Ichigo ruffled the girl's hair as he leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Go to bed. Otherwise, you'll be a walking zombie tomorrow."

Himeko touched her forehead lightly with her fingers, thinking about how strange it was that once upon a time she had wished so desperately for just one kiss from this man, and now she was receiving more kisses from him than she could count. "Dad? Did you know that I used to…be in love with you?" she asked in a timid but curious voice. "…a long time ago?"

Ichigo blinked. Then with his elbow on his knee, he propped his chin up on his hand and looked at her. "Hmm? I'm kind of disappointed. You mean you don't love me anymore?"

"EH?!" Out of all the possible responses Himeko could come up with, that certainly wasn't one of them. "Bu…but…!"

"It's normal, right?" he asked, nonchalant.

"_What's_ normal?!" She was still in shock.

"Girls falling in love with their fathers," he clarified. "The Electra complex or whatever."

"No, but…I mean…I'm talking about _before_ you were my father."

He waved a dismissive hand. "You just had yours early."

It was her turn to blink. In the next second, she burst out laughing, and that in turn put a smile on Ichigo's face.

"So?" he said after she had calmed down.

She raised her brows in query. "Hm?"

"Bed?" he reminded dryly.

"Oh. Well…it's ok! I'll keep you company!" she pleaded energetically. "Gin-chan taught me how to take a nap in class without getting caught, so you don't have to worry about me being a zombie tomorrow!"

"…Did he now?" he deadpanned as he folded his arms.

She gasped as she realized her slip up. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that…" she whispered, more to herself than to him. "Don't tell him I told you that."

Ichigo heaved an inward sigh, wondering what other useless things Ginjo might have been teaching her. "Fine, I won't say anything. But _you_," he said as he got to his feet, "are going to bed." He placed his hands around her waist and, with one swift motion, picked her up and tossed her over one shoulder.

"Eek!" she exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. "What're you doing?!"

"Taking you upstairs," he said, thinking that should have been obvious.

"I can go by myself!" she argued, feeling a bit embarrassed about being carried like a sack of potatoes at her age.

"But I've already told you twice, and you still wouldn't listen to me," he retorted.

"I'll go, I'll go!" she said, starting to get a bit flustered. "Just put me down!"

"Hm? Why? Oh. Is it because you don't love me anymore?" he teased.

She gave a small whine of frustration. "I didn't say that!"

"Yeah, you did," he said, trying to hide the grin from his voice.

"No, I didn't!" she insisted, legs kicking slightly.

"But just now—"

"Ok, ok! Fine!" she cut him off. Sighing with resignation, she visibly deflated as she relaxed all her muscles and her body draped limply over his shoulder like a towel. "Just carry me upstairs."

He didn't make a sound, but his body shook with amusement as he made his way.

"Stop laughing, dad!" She hit his back lightly with her fist.

"Ow! Sorry…" He continued to laugh nonetheless.

When Ichigo got to the top of the stairs, he crouched down to set Himeko back on her feet and was greeted by her pouting face. He grinned, brushing back her messed up hair. "Goodnight, Himeko."

Reluctantly, she turned to go. Then she paused, turned back around, and gave him a kiss on the nose. "Goodnight, dad," she said with a bright smile. After that, she hurried back to her room.

Ichigo smiled as he got back to his feet. Feeling like maybe he could actually get some sleep now, he headed back to his room as well.

* * *

A/N: Hmm…this chapter's probably pretty sedated compared to the last one. LOL!

Emiko means 'smiling child' (according to this one website). Kinda bittersweet, but I thought it suits her character. She has a positive personality despite her chronic illness.

And Ichigo…he's not very good at giving souls mental preparation before helping them cross over, is he? He doesn't like saying things like "It'll be all right" or "Everything will be fine", because he knows how Rukongai can be and doesn't want to lie or give false hope.

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	13. Lost and Found

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. Hmm…yeah…it sure does…

* * *

**Thirteenth Glimpse: Lost and Found**

(Ginjo – Age fourteen)

The blade descended swiftly upon the screaming hollow, purifying it instantly, signifying the end of another hunt. Ginjo was about to sheathe his blade when the sound of another scream hit him from behind.

"WAAAAHHH!!!! It's gonna eat me!!! Waaahhhh!!!"

The shinigami twisted his lips. He had almost forgotten about the snot-nosed kid that the two-bit hollow had been after to begin with. He turned around and scowled at the scared boy. "It's gone, so shut the hell up!"

The kid, who had been on his butt screaming with his eyes shut and arms waving, opened his eyes and looked around to confirm. It was night and they were in the middle of a deserted park…just the two of them. "What was that monster?!"

"It's what you're gonna be if you keep hanging around," Ginjo divulged dryly.

The child looked up at him with shock, disbelieving. "Nuh-uh!"

Ginjo shrugged, his body language expressing utmost disinterest. "You don't have to believe me."

Somehow…seeing that uncaring attitude…the boy found himself believing. "But…I can't go, yet!" he insisted. "I still have to—"

"Look, kid," Ginjo said, cutting him off. "Do I _look_ like I care what kind of unfinished business you might have?" he asked, sounding just a tad bit annoyed. Then he crouched down and cupped his hand around the boy's chin, jerking his head left and right to give his face a good look. "Well, maybe it won't be such a bad thing for you to turn into one of those things," he concluded. "Looks like you might have some fight in you." He let go of the kid and got back to his feet, looming over the child with his height. "I'll come back and hunt you down then."

The boy blanched, a chill running up his spine as he stared unblinkingly at the sadistic grin this blue-haired teen was fixing on him. He gulped. "OK, I'll go," he stated with shaky haste.

"Ya sure?" Ginjo asked with a raised brow. "Being a monster might be kinda fun, ya know."

"No, thanks!" The kid shook his head, starting to panic.

Ginjo shrugged again. "Whatever. Suit yourself." He performed konsou, and the boy passed on.

"Snot-nosed brat," he mumbled as he sat on the grass, scowling once again. He had been in a foul mood for quite some time now. Usually, hollow hunting would help him improve his mood. Tonight, however, even though he had taken out three hollows and scared a plus shitless, it didn't seem to be doing squat for him. And of course, it certainly didn't help to have this continuous nagging voice in the back of his mind.

Frustrated, he threw his zanpakutou, planting the tip of its blade into the ground a few feet away. "If ya got something to say, then say it…Pantera." He glared at the weapon as it glistened in the moonlight.

In response, a panther with the purest white fur materialized beside the blade. With eyes that matched Ginjo's in color, the feline also had blue markings under its eyes that were identical to the ones that, once upon a time, could be found on the features of the sexta Espada, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

With the smooth grace of a predator, Pantera made his way slowly over to Ginjo, judgmental eyes never leaving the boy as it began to walk a circle around him as though sizing him up. His tail swayed easily in a silent display of confidence.

Ginjo continued to glare straight ahead, trying to ignore the way Pantera was taunting him by daring to regard him as though he were some kind of prey.

Taking his sweet time, the white panther returned to the blade and curled up on the grass beside it, making himself comfortable before finally speaking his mind. "Heh…pansy."

Ginjo narrowed his eyes. "You wanna come over here and say that?"

Pantera licked his paw, not intimidated in the least. "What? Am I wrong? Then why haven't you done anything, yet?" he inquired in a calm but decidedly condescending tone. "All this pathetic brooding is making me nauseous. I'm surprised you haven't thrown up all over yourself, yet."

"I _can't_, and you know why," the youth said between clenched teeth.

"Oh, right…because _daddy_ won't give you permission."

"No, you damn bastard!" Ginjo really hated the way Pantera got under his skin sometimes. "I'm stuck unless he tells me what I need to know, and he won't say a damn word about it!"

"There are…other sources," Pantera pointed out. "You're just not making use of them."

Ginjo looked away and didn't reply. Of course, he hadn't overlooked these so-called other sources. He just would rather not go there if at all possible. He never liked asking for favors, and this one would definitely be considered a really huge one.

"I want it back, Ginjo," Pantera declared, plain and simple. "And I know you want it as much as I do." When the boy made no attempt to respond, the panther continued. "What's the point of waiting around in a dead end when you know it's not going to get you anywhere? Unless, of course…" he said as he eyed the boy again with a sly smirk, "you really _are_ a daddy's boy."

That last comment earned Pantera a death glare. "If you weren't my zanpakutou, I would have sliced you up a looooong time ago," Ginjo said, his voice low and threatening.

"And I would have bitten your head off," the panther replied easily, rather enjoying himself. "Literally."

Ginjo grumbled. "Maybe I can't kill you, but I can still shave your ass bald, you damn hairball!"

"Better watch that tongue of yours, brat," Pantera retorted, unconcerned. "Otherwise, I might not fight the next battle for you."

"Yeah, right. Like that'll ever happen." Ginjo rolled his eyes as he called his companion on his empty threat. "You hate losing just as much as I do."

Pantera chuckled. "True enough." His pride, not to mention his lust for battle, would never allow him to sit idle in any of the boy's battles.

With a heavy sigh, Ginjo dropped his back onto the grass. He hated to admit it, but Pantera was right. He'd probably never get anything out of his father. It was time to switch tactics.

Watching Ginjo's thoughtful scowl, Pantera couldn't help but smile to himself with a sense of accomplishment. He could tell that his 'persuasion' had taken effect, and the boy would take action soon enough. It was no surprise really. After all, he knew exactly how to press all of Ginjo's buttons to help steer him in the direction best suited for the both of them.

* * *

The next day, Ginjo took his case to Urahara.

"Let me get this straight," the exiled shinigami said. "You want to become a vizard…Kurosaki-san said no…so you want _me_ to make you into one?"

"Pretty much," the boy replied shortly.

Urahara smirked, obviously intrigued. He had always known that this would come up at some point. He just never thought that it would be this soon. The boy was still only fourteen. "Ginjo. You and I may go way back, but…I like my head where it is."

Ginjo heaved an exasperated breath. "Urahara, can you tell me what happened to the other members of the Espada?" he asked rhetorically. "Most of them are still out there, unaccounted for. And that includes Ichimaru Gin. I'm just saying…I have potential enemies. Strong ones." He scowled with seriousness. "I need that power back."

Urahara adjusted his hat with a small sigh of his own. "Let me think about it…I'll see what I can do."

* * *

The day after that, Urahara took the case back to Ichigo. After all, he really _did_ like his head where it was. Not to mention the fact that he would never cease to be amused by Ichigo's I-don't-know-if-I-should-strangle-Ginjo-or-myself look.

And that was exactly the look Ichigo was currently displaying as the two of them sat across the table from each other in the small sitting room at Urahara Shouten. After a long stretch of time, he finally spoke. "No," he said firmly. "The answer's no."

"I can see why you'd be against it, but…he does have a point," Urahara said. "He betrayed Aizen and the arrancars, and he defeated Ichimaru Gin. Any and all of them could hold a grudge. If they find him, it could be trouble."

"I don't care!" Ichigo said with agitation. "He's my son now. I can't let him take the risks."

"He may be in the body of a teenager, but now that his memories had awakened, his mind could very well be much older than you are," Urahara explained calmly. "Don't forget…he was once an Espada, and he remembers it. He has experience. Controlling his inner hollow may come much more easily to him than it did for you."

Ichigo glared accusingly at the shop owner. "I still don't get why he remembers all that, and I can't shake the feeling that _you_ have something to do with it."

Urahara flashed him the innocent look.

The orange-haired man sighed as he began to massage his temples with his fingers. In some ways, Ginjo was too much like himself. During Ichigo's own quest for power, he had never said a word of it to his father. He should probably consider it a miracle that Ginjo had actually come to him first instead of bypassing him altogether. Truth of the matter was, once the boy had made up his mind, there wasn't anything he could do to change it. If he denied him, Ginjo would just go around his back and try to figure it out on his own. Who knows what sort of reckless and stupid things he might end up doing then? In a choice between bad and worse, it was probably better to give him the best guidance possible through something dangerous than to leave him to his own devices.

Ichigo rubbed his hands over his face with yet another heavy sigh. _I can't believe I'm doing this…_ He reached into his pocket for his phone and made a call.

"Hirako…I need a favor."

* * *

With his hands in his pockets, Ginjo sauntered down the street, trailing a few steps behind Ichigo. He had no idea what was going on. When he got home from school, the man simply insisted that he follow him. Ginjo frowned. "Oi! Where the heck are we going?!"

Ichigo halted. "We're here."

It wasn't until now that the youth actually paid enough attention to his surroundings to realize that they were on Vizard Street. Well…that was what Ginjo called it in his head anyway. The abandoned warehouses that used to be in this area of town had long since been demolished, replaced by a small street lined with various stores on either side.

Smack dab in the middle of said street was the small garage owned by Shinji, which he operated with the help of Hiyori and Kensei. It looked so rundown, dusty, and rusty that Ginjo had no idea why anyone would give them business.

Next to the garage was Mashiro's way-too-cutesy, way-too-pink little bakery. Ginjo firmly believed that it was only staying in business solely because of Hachi's existence since Mashiro would burn pretty much half of everything she baked. There was always a 'buy one cookie, get a burnt one free' deal going on. Always.

On the other side of the street, directly across from the garage and bakery, was a pair of small bookstores. One belonged to Love and Rose and sold namely manga and some CDs. Posters of "Dye" were plastered on practically every square inch of the interior walls as though they were being used as wallpaper. The bookstore beside it was Risa's, and it sold books and magazines to a…slightly different clientele.

All four buildings had a second level where the living quarters were. And of course, in the back of each business there was also a floor hatch that led to the same gigantic underground training room below…the very room where Ichigo had been trained all those years ago.

Father and son were standing just outside the garage, and Shinji stepped out to greet them with his usual laid back grin. Then he turned to the orange-haired man. "Ya sure about this, Ichigo?"

Ichigo looked at Shinji and merely gave a quick and expressionless nod.

It was obvious to Shinji that Ichigo was nothing short of tense and anxious. Not that he could blame the guy. After all, this wasn't exactly the same as letting one's kid get behind the wheel of a car for the first time. What he was about to let his son attempt was on a completely different level.

Shinji turned his attention to Ginjo, eyeing him from head to toe. "Well, well, Ginjo. That rematch you keep pestering me about? Looks like we'll be doing a lot o' that from now on."

Ginjo looked from Shinji to Ichigo. He wasn't stupid. He already had a pretty good idea where this was going. He just couldn't quite believe it, yet.

"Promise me one thing, Ginjo," Ichigo said in all seriousness. "Just don't die." He tossed something over to the boy.

Ginjo caught it in his hand and took a look. It was a little green pill: Kon. He grinned. "If I die, it'll get me out of your hair, wouldn't it?"

"Don't even joke about shit like that," Ichigo reprimanded, not really appreciating the humor at the moment. "I expect to see you home in ten days."

Ginjo faltered for just a second at his father's reaction, but he recovered quickly. "Don't worry," he said and even managed to smirk. "I got things to do. I definitely won't kick the bucket before you do."

* * *

Now in his shinigami form, Ginjo followed Shinji and Hachi down to the underground training room, giving the place a once over. Although he had always known of its existence, this was the first time Ginjo had actually set foot in it. But since it looked a lot like the one at Urahara's, he wasn't particularly surprised or impressed.

"So," Shinji began as he tapped his sheathed zanpakutou casually against his shoulder. "Did you eat your favorite food one last time?"

"What?" Ginjo asked with a quirked brow.

"Did you tell your mom you love her? Got a girlfriend? Did ya kiss her goodbye?"

"Go ta hell," the blue-haired youth drawled.

Shinji shrugged. "Just making sure we cover our bases." Then he got down to business. "Let me lay it out for ya, kid. There are a number of possible outcomes, and I can't guarantee anything. You could, one: die. Two: live, but lose all your shinigami powers and end up as just a regular human. Three: come out of it just as you are…no gain, no loss. Four: turn into a hollow. Or five: become a vizard. There's only a one in five chance of you actually getting what you want. Do you still want to go through with it?"

"Yes." The answer was immediate and unwavering.

The vizard considered the boy for a moment. "You know…your father didn't become a vizard by choice."

Ginjo looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Did you?"

Shinji thought about it. Then, giving an unreadable smirk, he simply moved on. "Once we get started, there's no turning back. It'll be too late for regrets."

The boy heaved a tired sigh. "I'm just waiting for you to stop talking."

"Fair enough," Shinji grinned. "You see that up there?" he said as he pointed a finger up towards the fake sky.

The instant Ginjo turned his eyes up to look, Shinji unsheathed his blade and shoved the length of it straight through the boy's chest. Ginjo's eyes widened in shock as the pain spread throughout his being. As one hand went to his chest, his other hand latched onto Shinji's shoulder for support. "…bastard…what are you…?!"

The vizard pulled his blade out, causing Ginjo to inhale sharply in response. The boy first dropped to his knees then crumbled the rest of the way to the ground, losing consciousness.

Shinji looked down at Ginjo with a blank expression. "Like I said…it's too late for regrets." He turned his head and called out over his shoulder. "Hachi."

Hachigen stepped forward and kneeled beside the unconscious boy. Turning his body over to face up, the pink-haired vizard quickly began to work on healing the potentially fatal wound.

* * *

When Ginjo came to, he found himself lying on a futon, his chest bound in bandages. Then Shinji walked into his field of vision. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice a bit raspy.

"Hiyori's room."

"WHAT?!" He immediately regretted the outburst when his chest started to hurt like hell.

"Shut up and be grateful that a classy lady like me is letting you sleep in her bed," Hiyori drawled as she, too, made her way into Ginjo's field of vision with folded arms. "Wet the bed and you're dead, ya hear?"

"Then you should have waited till I was potty trained, you old hag," Ginjo retorted dryly.

The pigtailed girl walked around until she was standing right over Ginjo's head and crouched down, leaning over until the tip of her nose was about to touch his forehead, narrowing her eyes. "_What_ did you just call me, ya little brat?"

"You heard me, short stuff," Ginjo returned with a sardonic smirk.

Shinji mentally rolled his eyes. Ever since Ginjo had his growth spurt and shot up like a weed, Hiyori…obviously displeased by the fact that he had outgrown her by so much…had taken to calling him a brat as though she could somehow shrink him in her mind by doing so. In return, Ginjo had decided to retaliate by pointing out that she was short _and_ old. Whenever this ongoing verbal battle would play itself out on the streets, it would garner quite a bit of attention from perplexed onlookers. After all, a tall muscular guy calling a younger looking girl an old hag while said girl insisted that he was no more than a babe didn't really make a whole lot of sense.

"Save your sweet nothings for later," Shinji interjected as he plopped his bottom right onto Ginjo's abdomen, using him like a bench.

"Hey, get off, damn it!," the boy protested. "You're sitting on an injured person!"

"Congratulations, Ginjo!" Shinji said with a grin, completely ignoring the boy's words. "You lived!"

Ginjo scowled. "You better have a damn good explanation for nearly stabbing me to death, you prick."

"I just destroyed your Soul Sleep and Chain Link," Shinji replied conversationally with a light shrug.

"WHAT?!" Ginjo winced. The vizard's added weight on top of him certainly did _not_ make this outburst feel any better than the first one. "What the hell did you do that for?!" Even though he survived, he was now no longer a shinigami. Just a regular human with a regular soul.

"Listen, Ginjo. You can't become a vizard the way the rest of us did for various reasons, two of which being that the hougyoku no longer exists and the fact that, despite having shinigami powers, you are human," Shinji explained. "So, we're going to do it the more…unconventional way." Never mind that just becoming a vizard was already unconventional to begin with. "…the way Ichigo did it."

Ginjo raised a brow. "My old man?"

"You know the story, don't ya?" Shinji asked the youth with a small smirk. "Rukia gave Ichigo her shinigami powers, so when good ol' Byakuya came along and took those powers back, Ichigo had to find his own powers and, in the process, gained the powers of a hollow."

The Kurosaki boy had some vague knowledge of this history, though he had no idea what the details of this 'process' were.

"There is, however, a key difference between your situation and your father's," Shinji continued, capturing the boy's full attention with the seriousness of his tone. "Whereas Byakuya had only taken Rukia's powers away from Ichigo, the shinigami powers that _you_ just lost were definitely your own. The risk that you're taking is far greater than the one Ichigo had taken, because you are now completely cut off from Pantera. Whether or not you can reestablish that connection…it all depends on you."

"…has it ever been done before?"

Shinji eyed the boy. "If you succeed…you'll be the first."

"Peachy," Ginjo deadpanned. "So nice of you to tell me all this _ahead_ of time." Only now did he fully understand just how precarious his situation truly was.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Shinji inquired, not sounding sorry in the least. "_Who_ was it that said, 'I'm just waiting for you to stop talking', hmm?"

"I still am," Ginjo said with a stubborn scowl. "Just tell me what I gotta do."

Shinji grinned. It was just the kind of attitude he had expected from the kid. If anyone were going to pull this off, it would probably be him. Shinji held up his hand, and Hiyori tossed a small bottle marked with the picture of a skull and crossbones to him. "Take a pill from this bottle once every hour for the rest of the day, and your wound should close up completely by tonight." He got to his feet and sauntered his way towards the door, Hiyori following right behind. "Meet me in the training room tomorrow morning. We'll start having fun then."

Setting the bottle aside, Ginjo closed his eyes and took the opportunity to savor the silence because, within the next ten days, he will surely find Pantera again. And the hollow powers he had lost…he will get those back as well.

* * *

Standing in front of the bathroom sink counter in the living quarters above Shinji's garage, Kon closed his eyes and reached out with his senses. _…I still can't find him…_

It had been two days since Ginjo disappeared down into the training room, and Kon still hadn't been able to pick up a single trace of the boy's reiatsu. He was really starting to get concerned. And since Shinji had pretty much locked down the room, denying him access, Kon had no idea what the heck was going on down there or if the boy was even still alive.

He opened his eyes and stared into the mirror, Ginjo's reflection staring back at him. It was useless to dwell on things he had no control over, so he might as well go out and do something…try to get his mind off of his worries.

He ran a hand through his hair. _Stunning electric blue hair…Check._

He held up an arm and flexed his muscles. _Killer biceps…Check._

He looked at his reflection once more. _Devilishly dangerous grin…Oh, yeah._

Satisfied that he was good to go, Kon got out of the bathroom and bolted down the stairs. "Time to go find me some high school girls!"

He had always enjoyed his time in Ginjo's body, even when the kid was still just a small child. After all, anything was an upgrade from being a walking talking stuffed lion. But now that Ginjo was starting to get older…all kinds of doors were opening up for Kon. Especially now, since it looked like Ginjo would be stuck in the training room and away from his body for a good while. The mod soul couldn't stop grinning just thinking of the possibilities.

However, before he went on his quest, Kon thought that it was only proper to start off the day with a visit to Risa's bookstore since reading _was_ considered a healthy and intellectual habit. With that decision made, he waltzed his way across the street and into said bookstore. "Riiiiiiisa Nee-san!" he greeted with seemingly boundless energy, adoration shining in his eyes.

The dark-haired girl at the counter looked up from her reading and adjusted her glasses. "I was wondering when you'd get up," she said in her typical no nonsense fashion. "Come take a look at this."

If possible, Kon's eyes lit up some more. "What is it?!" he asked with barely contained excitement as he approached the counter. "Got a new shipment in?!"

"Not exactly," she said as she plopped a few photographs onto the counter.

With just one look, Kon blanched, all blood draining from his face. They were pictures of him from when he was here the day before, squatting in front of the bookshelves with a magazine in his hands, grinning from ear to ear with noticeably flushed cheeks. In one of the pictures, he was actually drooling. All that was fine and good except…he had been wearing Ginjo's meat suit at the time.

Risa rested her elbows on the counter. "I wonder what Ginjo would think if he sees these…"

Kon gulped. _I'm a dead man…_ Hesitantly, he looked up at the vizard. "Um…nee-san…"

Seeing that pleading puppy dog look in his eyes, Risa smirked triumphantly. "There's a mop in the storage room in the back. You can start by cleaning this floor. Then go upstairs and clean my apartment. Dust, do the dishes, do the laundry, everything." She swiped the photos off the counter and dangled them in front of Kon like a prize. "If you do a good job…I'll hand these over to you before Ginjo gets out."

Kon hung his head in resignation. "…yes, ma'am."

His dreams of high school girls? Shattered.

* * *

Ginjo stepped out of the garage and turned his eyes up. After having spent so many days in a room with a fake sky, it was nice to see the real one and actually be able to tell what time of day it was. The only thing that he couldn't quite understand was why he felt so drained after getting back into his body, like he had just finished running a marathon…or had been doing nonstop manual labor.

The past ten days had felt more like one extremely long day. He spent a good chunk of that time restoring his spiritual powers by training with Mashiro of all people. Ginjo really hated that experience. It wasn't so much her zanpakutou he was afraid of. It was her dreaded hugs and kisses that he spent most of his energy trying to avoid like the plague. Now that he thought about it, Shinji probably picked her to be his opponent specifically for that reason. That bastard did tell him afterwards that restoring spiritual powers was most effective when one was faced with a life or death situation, and for Ginjo, having to face Mashiro's affections was decidedly worse than being put in any mortal danger.

After that, with his Chain of Fate severed and his arms bound behind his back, he was unceremoniously kicked into a frickin' hole. Looking down at him from above, Shinji had told him this:

_"It'll take seventy-two hours for your Chain of Fate to complete its encroachment. That's the amount of time you have to find Pantera from within yourself. Just remember that while you're seeking out your shinigami powers, your inner hollow will be right behind you, waiting to consume you the moment encroachment is complete. In order to obtain both powers, you have to latch onto both of them at the same time. That means even if you **do** manage to find Pantera early, you are not to touch it until your Chain of Fate has completely devoured itself, or you will only succeed in becoming a shinigami. Vice versa, if you can't find your zanpakutou by the time your inner hollow is let loose…you will become a hollow. Your timing is crucial, and the end of encroachment is when everything needs to happen."_

With those instructions, Ginjo had been left to play hide and seek with Pantera in his inner world for three days, ending with a high stakes game of three-way tag as that inner world crumbled. In the end, he had beaten the odds.

Since taming his inner hollow was hardly even a struggle for him, Ginjo spent the rest of his time sparring with Shinji to start to get a handle on his newfound powers. He would be lying if he said he didn't thoroughly enjoy himself.

As Ginjo stepped onto the street, he heard someone call out his name.

"Hey, Ginjo!"

Looking to the bookstore across the street, he saw Love waving to him to get his attention then pointing back to the cashier's counter where an orange-haired girl was sitting with her head resting on her folded arms. Rose, who was standing beside her, was giving her a gentle shake to wake her up.

"She's been coming here everyday," Love said quietly as the youth approached. "Since Shinji gave strict orders to not let anyone go below, all we could do was let her sit here and wait." The vizard took another glance back at the girl. "I think she's pretty worried."

Ginjo returned his attention to his sister whom by now had taken note of his presence and was coming out to meet him. As soon as she stepped out of the bookstore, the first thing she did was employ all of her karate skills and punched him straight in the gut. Hard.

Having not expected that greeting, the punch caught Ginjo completely off guard, knocking the wind out of him. "What the hell was _that_ for?!" he blurted after recovering from the shock.

Himeko looked up at her much taller brother with a deep frown. "You stupid!…selfish!…reckless!…idiot brother!!" she yelled, pounding her fist on his chest with every exclamation. "You didn't even tell me!" The only reason she knew what was going on was because she overheard her father explaining it to her mother while trying not to get skewered by Sode no Shirayuki. "Why didn't you tell me?!!"

Ginjo looked away. "It just…sort of happened."

"What were you thinking?!" she asked, hitting him again with frustration. "Why did you do it?!"

"Because it'll help if shit happens, ok?!"

"Liar!" Her fist connected with his chest once more. "You just wanted to get stronger!"

Well…there was a lot of that, too, but Ginjo thought it probably wouldn't be wise to voice that thought.

When he didn't speak, she continued, her voice trembling. "What if something happened to you? You're just…going to leave me by myself?" She took a shaky breath. "What would I tell him when I find him?…What am I supposed to tell him then?!"

Ginjo's head snapped up at that, staring at his sister who was now in tears. He had never seen her this upset, angry, and fragile before. And it was aggravating to know that it was all his doing. "Himeko…"

Dully taking a step forward, she closed the distance between them, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in each hand as she buried her face in his chest and cried. "…what would I tell him when I find him?" she repeated quietly between sobs. "…what would I do if I _can't_ find him?" she finally admitted.

He placed a hand on her head with a silent sigh. "I'm still here. Quit crying already," he said, though there was absolutely no bite in his tone.

Back in the bookstore, Rose nudged Love in the side with his elbow. "Who's this _him_ they keep talking about?" he whispered.

Love shrugged. "How should I know? But this is great material, man! I can definitely use it somewhere," he whispered back enthusiastically as he continued to record the dramatic scene unfolding before him with his phone.

After a few moments, which felt more like an eternity to Ginjo, he finally couldn't take it anymore. "All right, enough of this sissy stuff," he said as he peeled Himeko off of his now soaked shirt. "Let's just go home." Without waiting for her reply, he took her wrist and started to head off. He didn't get far, however, before someone else called out his name, this time from the garage.

"Oi, Ginjo!"

The boy turned his head to give Shinji a what-do-you-want-now scowl.

"Rest up, but come back within a week," the vizard instructed.

Ginjo smirked. "I'll be back in three days." Even though he was technically a vizard now, he was still far from being an effective one.

"Oh?" Shinji raised a brow. "Ya love your awesome new shishou that much, huh?"

"Don't flatter yourself, _shishou_," Ginjo drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. Then a grin spread across his features. "I just like your playground."

Shinji smirked as he watched the kid leave with his sister in tow. _Cocky bastard._ In truth, he had been keeping an eye on Ginjo for a while now, and the past ten days had proven that he had been right about the boy's potential. However, although being a vizard was similar to being an arrancar in some ways, it wasn't exactly the same thing. The boy still had a lot to learn.

As for Ginjo, he still wasn't sure how he felt about this…arrangement he was getting himself into, but if he had to ask himself which was a better pastime: sparring with Shinji or hunting two-bit hollows? Well…that really was a no-brainer.

As he turned the street corner, he glanced back at Himeko to find that she was still wearing the gloom and doom look on her face. It was the look that made him feel like bashing his head in. "We'll stop at that ice cream place, and I'll buy you whatever the heck you want," he offered as he continued to tug her along. It was the only way he knew how to make amends without looking _too_ much like he was trying to make amends.

"…it's just dad's money you're using," she pointed out, still sounding sulky. "It's not like you're paying for it."

"I can always just steal it if that's what you prefer," he retorted dryly.

"No!"

"Then quit complaining!"

She frowned, trying to glare a hole through the back of his head. "…I want a banana split," she finally decided.

"Whatever."

"…with seven scoops."

He blinked. "Ya sure that still qualifies as a split?"

"…and peanut butter and mayonnaise on top."

"That's not even an option on the menu!" _Who'd eat crap like that?_

"But that's what I want."

He took a moment to seethe in silence. "Fine! We'll go pick up whatever weird topping you want at the grocery and you can take it with you and do whatever the hell you want with it. Ya happy now?!"

"I want to eat it at the park," she continued with her demands.

"All right! We'll eat it at the damn park!"

"…while sitting on the swing."

"What?!" He frowned at the absurdity of the impractical idea.

"…and I want you to push me while I'm eating."

Ginjo finally stopped in his tracks as he realized something. Peering over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed to slits when he saw that definite glint in Himeko's eyes. She was totally messing with him, trying to see how far he'd be willing to bend over backwards for her before he realized she was messing with him.

"I swear," he huffed as he turned back around and continued to walk, "you're such a god damn princess." Though he complained, he was relieved. He probably didn't deserve it, but, in her roundabout way, she had accepted his roundabout apology.

In response, she gave a light chuckle as she twisted her wrist out of his grasp and held onto his hand with both of hers, silently reassuring herself that he was indeed still here.

* * *

A/N: Yay! Pantera finally makes his appearance! Shinigamified! LOL! If Ginjo is ever caught trying to make a decision between something reckless and something even more reckless, Pantera is like the little devil perched on his shoulder that tells him to go for the more reckless option. Haha! I'm kind of in love with him right now.

Ginjo's fourteen and starting to get his height back, though he's still not as tall as Grimm used to be, yet. Ah, my babies are growing up… (sniff, sniff)

And so, this was how Ginjo and Shinji's relationship began. Just in case anyone doesn't know, shishou means master/teacher…but typically of martial arts and the like. Kids at school wouldn't call their teachers that. I recently came across a new spelling for vizards on wikipedia…visoreds? It looks…really weird, so I'm going to stick with vizards.

I was almost tempted to title this chapter "The Long Ass Glimpse", because it's pretty darn long compared to the others. But it kinda needed to be in order to cover everything, and it's still pretty streamlined. Since I feel that the series still hasn't fully explained the mechanics of how one becomes a vizard, I was trying to be a bit vague-ish about it while still sounding somewhat plausible. LOL! Hope it worked out ok.

Incidentally, they did go get ice cream. Just without all the weird topping. LOL! Oh, and Kon got his photos back, too. Risa's place is spotless now. She pretty much worked him to death the entire time. Haha!

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	14. Adjust

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I would like to buy a little white kitten so I can dye the fur under his eyes blue and call him Pantera!

* * *

**Fourteenth Glimpse: Adjust**

(Himeko – Age thirteen)

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, her lungs expanding to their maximum capacity with every breath as she willed her legs to keep moving as quickly as humanly possible. She was getting close. If she could just hold out a bit longer, as long as she didn't look back, she'd make it!

Himeko rounded the street corner and…tripped over her own feet. "Ouch!" she exclaimed as she sprawled onto the sidewalk. She definitely scraped her knees, but she hastily pushed herself back to her feet and blocked the pain out of her mind as she continued to run. After all, a knee scrape was pretty trivial when there was a hollow breathing down her neck.

True, she _did_ sort of bring it on herself when she tried to take the hollow's attention away from its initial prey by using herself as bait. With her higher than average reiatsu levels, the hollow had followed her without second thought. But now that she had saved the other soul, whether or not she could outrun the hollow herself…that was a whole different story.

It wasn't because she was afraid of the hollow that she ran. She just needed to lead it somewhere where there weren't any people. Since she wasn't a shinigami and couldn't leave her body to fight the creature that was invisible to the large majority of humans, she would draw too much attention confronting it on a busy street. More importantly, she didn't want bystanders to get hurt, especially since she was still pretty new at trying to fight solo: _trying_ being the operative word…

She immediately shook that depressing thought out of her head. Now wasn't the time to be distracted by past failures. As long as she concentrated on what she was doing, she won't trip…again. As long as she didn't think about it, she could ignore her body's scream for timeout. And as long as she believed in her own strength, she could take this hollow out.

Himeko rounded another corner, trip-free this time, and found herself on a deserted side street. _This is it!_ Whirling around, she took her stance and waited with unblinking eyes.

A moment later, the masked predator caught up.

"Koten Zanshun, I reject!"

Tsubaki sped forth like a bullet and pierced through the hollow's midriff, emerging on the other side. The hollow screamed as a bright glow began to emit from the edges around Tsubaki's point of entry. Then, like a fire burning a hole through a piece of paper and spreading until the paper disintegrated, the glow around the hollow's wound spread, consuming its flesh until there was nothing left.

The hollow had been purified.

If there was one thing Himeko inherited from her shinigami parents…aside from a head full of bright orange hair…it was the power of purification. If she really thought about it, she supposed it was a lot like high-speed rejection in a way…the instantaneous rejection of the fact that a spirit had ever become a hollow.

Did this, then, mean that she was also a shinigami? No. She didn't have a zanpakutou, so she didn't have the ability to perform konsou on normal souls. If her soul were to leave her body, it would simply be a regular soul with a Chain of Fate linking it back to the body. She had tried once, and Kon hadn't been too happy about the experience of being a girl. Nevertheless, she was grateful enough just to be able to help the spirits that had lost their way…lost their hearts.

With the adrenaline rush over, Himeko collapsed to her hands and knees on the pavement as Tsubaki returned to her. Her legs felt like jelly, and her lungs hurt from all that heavy breathing. Even though she had been successful this time, her performance was far from graceful or even satisfactory. She still had a long ways to go.

When she finally caught her breath, she got back to her feet and tended to her knees, rejecting the scrapes in a matter of seconds. Without a doubt, 'healing' was definitely what she was best at and the power she was most comfortable with.

Then she checked her watch and immediately panicked. "Oh, no! I'm late!" With that said, she started running again, heading towards her school.

Standing atop a lamppost in his shinigami form, Ginjo watched as his sister scrambled off. _At least she didn't fall into a ditch and pass out like last time…or ram her forehead into the monkey bars like the time before that…_

She was getting better, but he was really looking forward to the day when he could stop playing secret guardian god of death…

* * *

After changing at the speed of light, Himeko shot out of the locker room and onto the track field where all the other students on the team had already gathered.

"Himeko-chan!" one of her classmates called out to her. "What took you so long?"

"Oh, Haruka-chan! Sorry, I'm late," Himeko replied, slightly out of breath as she scratched her head with a sheepish smile. "Did I miss anything?" she asked, ducking her friend's question.

"Nah. Just some warm up exercises. You got her just in time," Haruka reassured. "We're up next."

As if on cue, the coach blew his whistle. "All right! Eight hundred meters! On the track now!"

"That's us," Haruka said. "Let's go."

The girls stepped out onto the track, each going to their respective starting positions.

"Oh, by the way," Haruka called out to Himeko who was in the lane beside hers. "Your cheerleaders are here again," she said dryly.

The orange-haired girl quirked a brow. "Eh?"

Haruka pointed unenthusiastically up to the seating area.

When Himeko turned to look, she found two blondes grinning back at her: Shinji and Urahara.

Shinji immediately jumped to his feet, waving frantically with both arms. "Hiiiiiimeko-chaaaaaan!!!!"

Compared to that outrageous display, Urahara's small wave as he hid his face behind his fan was much more discrete, though not any less creepy.

Himeko smiled brightly with an enthusiastic wave of her own. "Urahara-san! Shinji-san!"

"I swear, Himeko-chan…you have the weirdest fan base," Haruka deadpanned. "_Who_ are they again?" She was positive that neither of the two men was her friend's father. She had seen him before and, despite the hair color, Himeko's father was much more…normal looking.

"Old friends!" Himeko replied, still smiling. "My dad's known them forever!"

Haruka looked away, still feeling skeptical. "Riiiiight…" If _her_ dad's old buddies came to watch her on their own, she would definitely freak out. And why were they here now anyway? This was only a practice meet. They were the only two spectators in the whole darn place. No matter how Haruka looked at it, they just looked like two perverted creeps here to check out the girls in shorts…

The girl's musings were cut short when the coach blew the whistle again.

Himeko also got into ready position, clearing her mind to focus on the task at hand. She never had much interest in track and field. Running around in a circle just seemed rather boring, but she decided to join the track team this year because there was something she wanted to get out of it.

Stamina.

She wasn't a shinigami, so she would never be able to use shunpo. She wasn't a Quincy, so hirenkyaku was out of her reach. She wasn't a hollow, so no sonido for her either. As a human, in order to keep up with her nakama as well as her enemies, the only way was to increase her speed as much as humanly possible and build up on endurance, which she knew she was lacking severely.

From time to time, Himeko would question herself on why she felt the need to train herself so hard in order to be ready for anything. Aside from the usual hollow activities…so insignificant when compared to Aizen and the Espada…things have been quiet for years.

Part of her drive might have to do with her brother. Living with someone who always had fighting on his mind and was constantly trying to go beyond his limits…it was difficult to not be at least a little bit influenced. Then there was the fact that she lived in a household where practically everyone was a shinigami…her father being a rather well known one. Even if they didn't go looking for trouble, trouble would eventually come looking for them. And if that should happen, she was _not_ going to be a liability. Not this time.

The coach's voice rang through the air. "On your marks!"

Himeko clenched her teeth. This time around, she would make sure that she could stand up and be an equal part of the team.

"Get set!"

No longer would she allow herself to play the damsel in distress.

"Go!"

The orange-haired girl took off with one thought on her mind: Kurosaki Himeko will definitely transcend Inoue Orihime.

* * *

(Uriya – Age fourteen)

Uryuu sat in his chair on the porch, a cup of hot tea in his hands, and watched as his son shot another arrow from his bow. He loved watching Uriya's archery practice. Partly because the boy had excellent form, but mostly because it was honest to goodness _arrow_ practice. Not let's-see-how-much-more-an-arrow-could-be-made-to-function-like-a-sword practice. There was an actual bow involved and everything. It was absolutely…beautiful.

Although Uryuu enjoyed watching the boy's practice sessions, watching him actually hunting down hollows on the other hand…that experience, Uryuu didn't like quite so much. It wasn't because Uriya wasn't any good at it. In fact, the reason had nothing to do with performance at all. It was something much more subtle. So subtle that Uryuu couldn't even be sure if he was reading it right.

It had to do with the expression that the boy would wear whenever he made a kill. Or rather, it was the lack of any expression at all. Of course, most would argue that Uriya's expression was pretty blank ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, but that was because they didn't know him like Uryuu did. And from Uryuu's perspective, there was definitely a difference. It would last for just a split second at the moment before he shoots. The life in his eyes would disappear, almost as though he had to shut down a part of himself before he could let that arrow fly…

"Is something the matter?"

Uryuu looked up, the sound of Uriya's voice shaking him out of his thoughts. "Hm?"

"You have this look on your face that says you think the sky might fall at any moment," Uriya explained apathetically.

Uryuu took a sip of his tea as he gathered his thoughts. "Does it bother you? Being a Quincy, I mean."

The young Quincy stared at his father, not sure what to make of the unexpected question. "Why do you ask?"

"Our powers are different from those of a shinigami," Uryuu began. "When our arrows strike, they don't purify…they obliterate. Are you… all right with that?"

The boy pondered briefly on the question. "If I don't kill the hollow, then it will consume its prey," he stated as though reciting a textbook fact. "Either way…a soul will be lost. Isn't that right?"

"But that's not what I'm asking," Uryuu pressed.

Uriya turned and resumed his arrow practice. '_Are you all right with that…since you were once a hollow?'_ His father didn't verbalize all that, but it was obvious that that was what he was asking.

The silence dragged on, and Uryuu assumed that his question was going to go unanswered when the boy spoke up.

"Are you aware of what it is that allows hollows to continue their evolution once they become Menos?"

"…"

"Cannibalism." Uriya pulled the 'string' and shot another arrow. "In order to evolve, a Menos must devour other Menos. Power, however, is not the only thing at stake. If a higher-class Menos were to stop eating, it would risk degenerating back into a Gillian and losing its sense of self, never to be able to evolve again. Driven by hunger and fear, we eat…and continue to eat…"

Uriya's use of the word 'we' did not go unnoticed.

"Compared to that," the boy continued, still displaying a stoic facade as he took aim once again, "this is nothing." Another bright arrow pierced the air.

As he watched the arrow fly off, Uriya thought about how much easier it was being a Quincy. Slaying hollows with an arrow from a distance. It was so much quicker, cleaner…impersonal. There were no shrill otherworldly cries, bloody dismembered limbs…taste of raw flesh in his mouth.

The young Quincy heaved a quiet sigh. He was doing it again…unconsciously comparing his current life to the one he had lived in Hueco Mundo. He couldn't help it. From time to time, his mind would just naturally wander in this direction, especially when he was hollow hunting. And by so doing, memories from a time that he would much rather forget would all come floating to the surface. Try as he might, years upon years of savagery just wasn't so easy to cast off from his mind.

Uryuu heaved a sigh of his own. "It would have been better if you never remembered," he mumbled to himself. Souls were cleansed with their memories wiped before reincarnation for a reason: so that they could start over with a clean slate without having to lug around the baggage from their previous lives. It was unfair that his son had been denied this sense of freedom that everyone else took for granted. And it was frustrating to know that there really wasn't anything he could do to help the boy.

"I disagree," Uriya responded, surprising his father with the fact that he had heard the comment. "I wouldn't trade those memories for anything." Compared to the centuries he had spent as a hollow, his life as Ukita…the whole eighteen years of it…was really nothing more than a fleeting moment. Nonetheless, in order to retain that fleeting moment, he would willingly endure everything else that came with it.

It was at times like this when Uryuu felt he understood the boy the least. Not to mention, he still had no idea what it was from the past that Uriya was clinging to. Setting his tea aside, he went to join the boy's side, firing off an arrow of his own.

Uriya glanced over at the older Quincy, his eyes questioning.

Uryuu gave a light shrug. "Thought this might be a nice change of pace." Especially after that conversation, they needed something to dispel the dark mood. "In any case, we need to work on that Quincy pride of yours."

"Is that so?" the boy all but deadpanned.

"Yes. Most definitely," Uryuu replied, resisting the urge to sigh in exasperation. "The way _you_ put it earlier…it sounds like being a Quincy is just bearable to you."

"That's not true," the boy retorted evenly. "I am grateful to have something in my arsenal when I had fully expected to be reborn as nothing more than a mere human."

Uryuu slumped his shoulders, deflating visibly. "That's not really pride… It's more akin to the feeling of someone who had just won something cool but ultimately inessential in a drawing that he never entered to begin with."

"Ah, yes," Uriya said as he tried to hide his smirk. "Perhaps that is the feeling." Teasing his father, he had realized, was almost as amusing as teasing Genji.

Uryuu grumbled inwardly. "Uriya. _You_ are the _sole_ person in this _entire_ world who is inheriting this great power," he explained. "You should be proud of it!"

"I see," the boy said offhandedly as he continued on with his practice, seemingly unconcerned.

Uryuu was about to start pulling his hair out when the boy spoke again.

"So, is this archery practice? Or are you just going to stand there, Tou-san?"

Uryuu twisted his lips. Trust the boy to make him feel like good ol' Kurosaki…a.k.a., an idiot. He took his stance, aimed, and shot.

The arrow hadn't made it ten feet away when it was utterly disintegrated by Uriya's triple arrows. It wasn't three consecutive arrows, but three arrows fired off at the same time…something he had taken to doing more and more of as of late and getting rather good at from the looks of it.

Uryuu looked over at his son.

The boy glanced back with impassive features but a definite glint in his eyes. "How's that for Quincy pride?"

Uryuu gave a quiet chuckle. "I suppose it's a start."

"Care to try again?" Uriya asked, drawing his string, standing at the ready as he waited for a response.

Uryuu smirked and mimicked the youth's actions. Somehow, practice turned into something more like a competition. "On three."

"Surviving arrow wins," Uriya added.

"One…two…three!"

A pair of bright white arrows sped off into the distance side by side, heading for an eventual collision course to determine the victor.

* * *

A/N: Time for another round of thanks for all the alerts, favs, and especially reviews! Thanks for still sticking with this little story! Can't believe it's about to be a year since I posted the first chapter of 'Searching'. And it's not quite close to being done, yet…

Urahara and Shinji…they have too much time on their hands. Haha!

Haruka means 'far off/distant'. You know…since they're running. There's some vague connection there. LOL!

I'm sort of the anti-athletic type. Hated P.E. since the third grade. Not kidding. That was when they started forcing us to play various sports instead of just randomly frolicking in the playground. Haha! So, I don't really know squat about school track teams, and whether or not track teams are generally available to thirteen-year-olds. If not, then…I guess they do things differently in Karakura. Heh…

Uriya's such a downer. If Ginjo were there, he'd probably tell him he was inherently depressing again. Haha! But I wanted to express the burden that also came with the memory retention.

Anyway, thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	15. Backwards

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I now have the third OST. Yay! (dances to Shinji's jazzy piano theme)

* * *

**Fifteenth Glimpse: Backwards**

(Ginjo – Age fifteen)

He sauntered into the classroom, backpack slung over one shoulder, scowl fully in place even though he was technically still half-asleep. Ginjo never liked mornings in general, and having to come to this place again didn't make it any better.

Two girls came in behind him, giggling about unimportant things. Consumed with her conversation and not watching where she was going, one of them bumped right into Ginjo's back. "Oh, I'm sorr—" she began, but then her voice caught in her throat when she looked up and saw just who she had bumped into.

She froze. Her heart pounded in her ears. This was the sort of reaction that typical fan girls would experience when they run into the object of their obsession. So, was she thinking, _'Oh my god! I touched him! Now my life is complete!'_? No. Actually, it was more along the lines of, _'Oh my god! I touched him! Now my life is over! He's going to kill me!!'_. After all, instead of Prince Charming, she _did_ just run into the Blue-Haired Devil himself.

As for Ginjo, he merely threw a neutral look…neutral from _his_ perspective…over his shoulder at the girl…What's-Her-Name…and continued on his way, unconcerned.

When that threatening look…threatening from _her_ perspective…didn't stop her heart and the devil walked away, the girl breathed a sigh of relief, thanking every god she'd ever heard of, and hurried to her seat.

The next person who stepped into the classroom came in a hurry, scanning the room with his eyes. When he found his target, he yelled. "Giiiiiiiin-saaaaaaaan!!!!"

Ginjo rolled his eyes. It was too early for this. He didn't even have to turn around to know who was now running up behind him. There was only one idiot in the entire school who would call out his name with such unnecessary enthusiasm. "How many times do I have to tell ya to stop hollering my name, Asano?"

Asano Hiroyuki. Probably the only student who wasn't deathly afraid of the Blue-Haired Devil, though popular belief was that he was simply too stupid to feel fear or know that his life was in danger. For reasons nobody could understand, he looked up to Ginjo. And for the lack of a better term, he was basically a follower-wannabe. "Gin-san! Look! What do you think, huh?!"

Ginjo finally turned and…blinked. If he was half-asleep before, he certainly wasn't anymore. "What the hell happened to your head?"

"I dyed my hair blue! Like you!" Hiro exclaimed, pulling down a lock of his bangs to inspect it with a grin. "Did it myself. Cool, huh?"

"You look like a retard," Ginjo deadpanned with honesty. Asano had naturally dark hair, so the light blue hair and dark brown eyebrows was just a funky combination. Not to mention, he did a crappy job dying his hair. There were still patches of brown all over the place, making his head look more like the hide of a blue cow. "Just…stay away from me until you fix it," he said as he plopped into his seat. Last thing he needed was a demented clone following him around.

"What?!" Hiro's face fell. "Aww…don't be like that, Gin-san!" Hastily, he unzipped his backpack and pulled out a few items. "Look what I got!"

Ginjo eyed the candy bar and the bag of chips waving around in the other boy's hands and grumbled internally. As idiotic as Asano was, the guy knew the one thing aside from fighting that could move him: food.

The naturally blue-haired teen grabbed the bag of chips, and the unnaturally blue-haired teen brightened as though his god had been appeased.

While Asano prattled on about…Ginjo wasn't sure what, Ginjo munched on his chips to pass the time. It wasn't like he was just taking stuff from the poor guy. After all, he didn't like owing anybody anything. In return for the food, Ginjo had decided long ago that he'd never lay a hand on Asano, no matter how annoying or asinine he was being. The only time he ever came close to punching him was when he had taken an interest in Himeko, and even then all Ginjo did was _threaten_ to kill him, nothing more. Food for immunity…it really wasn't a fair trade. In Ginjo's opinion, he should be getting at least twice the amount of food that he was getting in order to break even. But despite all the trouble, Asano Hiroyuki was pretty harmless, so Ginjo didn't mind letting it slide. Now if only he'd stop talking about how their fathers used to be high school buddies like it was some sort of sign or something, Ginjo would be satisfied.

Soon after, the teacher entered the classroom and went to his desk at the front of the class. "Kurosaki!" he called as he sat down and started to organize the things on his desk.

Ginjo looked up with a what-do-you-want look on his face.

"Got something here for you," the teacher said, waving a white envelope in his hand.

With a frown, Ginjo went to retrieve the envelope. "What's this?"

"How should I know?" the teacher replied casually, obviously not afraid of the boy like the students were. "It came into the office. I'm just delivering."

The boy scowled, thinking it was probably some teacher telling him he had skipped out on detention again…though he couldn't remember doing anything this week that would warrant detention. Once Ginjo tore open the envelope and took a look at the note that was inside, his scowl deepened. He looked around the classroom until he found what he was looking for: a girl sitting at her desk, checking herself out in her pocket-sized mirror.

He went over to the girl…What's-Her-Face…and grabbed the mirror out of her hand. "Let me borrow this for a sec."

The girl, stunned, scared, and confused at the same time, simply let him do whatever he wanted, even though she would have never guessed in a million years that he would take her mirror of all things.

Ignoring the strange looks that he was getting, the annoyed Ginjo held the note up against his chest with one hand and held the mirror a little ways away with the other hand. Why? So he could read the stupid backwards letter that his stupid backwards shishou had written to him through the mirror:

_To my favorite most fun-filled protégé, Ginjo,_

_Come to your favorite playground this afternoon, and your gracious, awesome, talented, and gifted shishou whom you adore and aspire to be like will teach you something cool!_

_P.S. – If you don't come, I'll sick Mashiro on you._

Ginjo crumpled the invitation/threat as he tossed the mirror back to What's-Her-Face, wondering what Shinji had in store for him this time.

* * *

Upon entering the vizards' training room, Ginjo found Shinji and Love standing in the middle of the huge chamber having a casual conversation.

"Hey, Ginjo!" Love greeted as he noticed the boy approaching.

Ginjo only nodded in acknowledgement then tossed the crumpled letter he received this morning at Shinji's head. "Can't you even write like a normal person?"

Shinji caught the projectile before it hit. "But I'm good at it!"

The boy heaved a sigh of annoyance. "So? What do you want?"

The blond-haired vizard grinned. "Know anything about kidou?"

"I don't do kidou," the youth replied dryly. His mother had tried to teach him when he was a kid, but he had given up on learning it pretty early on.

"Why's that?" Love inquired.

"Cuz it's too annoying memorizing incantations that don't even make any sense." It wasn't because he didn't have any talent for it. He just didn't want to bother. The incantations were all just a bunch of nonsense involving random numbers, directions, animals, and what not. Whoever came up with that stuff must have been drunk when they did it.

"But you do know the basics about kidou, right?" Shinji asked.

Ginjo shrugged. "Yeah. There are two types, bakudou and hadou, each with its own set of spells numbering from one to ninety-nine. The higher the number, the more powerful the spell and the more difficult it is to cast."

"So, you're not just a zanpakutou-wielding idiot after all," Shinji commented with a smirk, earning himself a glare from the boy. "But did you know that we vizards also have a set of kidou spells of our own?"

Ginjo raised a brow. This was the first time he'd heard of this.

"And lucky _you_," Shinji continued, "you get to learn them!"

"Are ya deaf or something?" Ginjo asked. "Didn't I just tell you that I don't do kidou?"

"No worries!" Shinji exclaimed, ignoring the boy's protest. "I promise these incantations will be much easier to remember. I came up with them myself!"

"_You_ did?" Feeling skeptical, Ginjo looked to Love for confirmation.

Love shrugged. "Despite appearances, Shinji's actually something of a genius."

"Listen, Ginjo," Shinji began. "We also have bakudou and hadou spells. The only difference is that our spells number from negative one to negative ninety-nine. And, of course, our spells are cooler."

Ginjo quirked a questioning brow. "…negatives?"

"Yes!" Shinji grinned. "It's the vizards' way!"

Love leaned closer to Ginjo and whispered, "Actually, Shinji just likes doing things backwards."

"So, anyway. I thought we'd start you off with an easy bakudou spell," Shinji said as he pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket and handed it over to Ginjo. "Read it."

Ginjo unfolded the paper and read:

_Howl of the western sky_

_Bite of the blood-sucking flea_

_White fang, clear drool, rabid beast_

_Look upon your tail and give chase_

_Bakudou Negative Nine: Canine Choker_

The young vizard looked up, blinked, gave his head a good shake, and reread the thing just to make sure he wasn't seeing things. And when he found that he had indeed read it correctly, he was dumbfounded. "What the hell is this?"

"Bakudou Negative Nine," Shinji replied as though everything was normal.

"You're shitting me, right?" Ginjo asked with disbelief. "This can't be real."

"Need proof?" Shinji grinned. "Bakudou Negative Nine: Canine Choker." He pointed two fingers at Ginjo as a bolt of lightning-like bright light shot out from his digits to form a bright white collar around Ginjo's neck, restricting his windpipe.

With the sudden loss of oxygen, Ginjo dropped to his knees, his hands instinctively grasping his neck in attempt to alleviate the pressure.

Shinji snapped his fingers, and the collar shattered. "See?"

Ginjo took a deep breath and coughed, his current condition and position diminishing the effectiveness of his death glare. "You bypassed the incantation!"

"It's because I'm a master," Shinji said as though that should have been obvious.

"That's not the point!" Unless Shinji recited the incantation, there was no way for Ginjo to verify if what was written on that piece of paper was actually real…because it sure as heck didn't _look_ real.

"I know, I know," Shinji said, dismissive. "It's only a low level spell, so you're not interested, right? That's why I'm going to teach you a high-level hadou spell to go with it." He whipped out another piece of paper and shoved it at Ginjo. "Here. Read it. This one'll make ya invincible."

With a grumble, Ginjo swiped the paper from Shinji's hand, if only to stop the maniac from waving it in front of his face. Unfolding it, he read:

_Mist of blue, flame of crimson_

_Bird of destruction makes a swooshing sound_

_Cloud to thunder, thunder to earth_

_Dirty bastard bites the dust_

_Hadou Negative Seventy-three: Graying Blitz_

If Ginjo had been dumbfounded before, he was downright appalled by now. _This guy's worse than Urahara…_ "Is 'swooshing' even a word?"

"What do you mean is it a word?" Shinji asked with a raised brow. "You're sayin' it, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but what kind of nut job comes up with lame ass incantations like 'dirty bastard bites the dust'?!" Ginjo argued. Seriously. Who in their right mind would say crap like that in the middle of a battle?!

"Ooh! I love the dirty bastard spell!" Love chimed in excitedly. "I like the way it rolls of the tongue. It's just fun to say, man!"

At that moment, Ginjo felt the sudden urge to ram his head into a brick wall.

Shinji shook his head at the boy, a bit of pity in his eyes. "Ginjo, you just don't know how to appreciate art. The _normal_ shinigami kidou spells are boring. That's why you couldn't learn it, right? So, when I created my own, I spiced it up a little."

"Don't you mean dumbed it down?" Ginjo asked dryly. "Stepped on it, rolled it around in the dirt, and kicked it a few times?"

"No," Shinji said with patience as though speaking to a child. "I made it possible for us to kick ass in style."

Ginjo would love to point out the fact that Shinji's sense of style was practically nonexistent but bit his tongue, because he knew that once he got Shinji started, it could go on all day. "So? What the heck's this one supposed to do?" he asked instead, not expecting much.

"Ah, I'm glad you asked! See that boulder over there?" he asked, pointing to a human-sized rock about thirty feet away.

The boy regarded the object with a bored look. "Yeah."

Shinji held his right arm straight out in front of him, hand folded into a fist while his other hand clasped onto his wrist to hold it steady. Then, to Ginjo's surprise, he actually began to recite the incantation. "Mist of blue! Flame of crimson! Bird of destruction makes a swooshing sound! Cloud to thunder! Thunder to earth! Dirty bastard bites the dust! Hadou Negative Seventy-three: Graying Blitz!"

A small shaft of light about the size of a dagger appeared from within Shinji's closed palm, shooting out from either ends of his fist. As quickly as it had appeared, he twirled it around his fingers and threw it like a knife at the boulder, which then exploded with a thunderclap-like bang on contact.

Slowly, Ginjo climbed back up to his feet, speechless. At that moment, he was so overwhelmed that his brain was about to short-circuit. Should he be glad that Shinji was actually telling the truth and not trying to play a stupid prank on him? Should he be disgusted that these messed up kidou spells were in fact real? Or should he simply allow himself to be impressed by that display of power? It was hard to believe just how much destructive force was packed into that tiny shaft of light, but once the gray cloud of smoke cleared, he was able to see that it didn't just reduce the boulder down to rubble…it turned it to dust. If someone had been there, well…that bastard would definitely be biting the dust right about now.

Ginjo twisted his lips, hating how this nonsense actually made some sense.

"And there's plenty more where that came from," Shinji said with a self-satisfied grin.

"Did you seriously come up with a hundred-ninety-eight of these things?" the boy asked with a quirked brow.

Shinji shrugged. "Most of them. The guys were bored, too, so I let them do a few."

"Ooh! Bakudou Negative Eleven's mine," Love supplied in his typical upbeat fashion. "If you get hit, it'll make you feel like you gotta pee."

Ginjo shot him an incredulous look. "How's that even considered a _binding_ spell?"

"Technically, it's an alteration of a technique I learned from one o' my old buddies in Fourth, but it's binding in spirit," Love explained. "You know…psychologically binding you to the can."

Ginjo's head hurt. Should he scream? Or should he strangle somebody?

"And Bakudou Negative Sixty-nine is Risa's," Love continued. "That one—"

"I **DON'T** even wanna hear it!" Ginjo interjected, holding up a hand in the universal stop sign before Love could go into any details.

"I'll give ya three days to memorize these two," Shinji stated, steering the conversation back to the point.

"Hell no," Ginjo replied readily.

"What do you mean no?"

"I won't be caught _dead_ saying this crap!" He'd be the laughing stock of the century for sure! Even the ever stoic Ulquiorra would probably split his sides from uncontrollable laughter if he were to ever witness it.

"Listen here, you," Shinji said as he folded his arms. "Being my one and only protégé and all, it's basically your duty to learn this stuff. And if ya don't learn it, I won't teach you anything else. Plus, we're not gonna let you come back here to play anymore."

Ginjo scowled, never one to respond well to threats. He shoved the two pieces of paper back into Shinji's hand. "Screw this. I'm leaving." Then he turned and began to stalk away.

"What?! Hey, get back here, you ingrate!" Shinji hollered.

"Take it easy, Shinji," Love soothed. "I mean…he _is_ Ichigo's kid. You know what they say. Like father, like son."

"Oh, yeah…" Shinji said thoughtfully. "Ichigo… Now, _there's_ a bona fide zanpakutou-wielding idiot. That guy can't do kidou to safe his life."

"Yeah, and it ain't _Ginjo's_ fault that he takes after his old man," Love added, a touch of sympathy in his voice. "He can't help it, so don't be so hard on him."

Shinji heaved a disappointed sigh. "Fine. Guess not everybody's cut out for this kinda thing."

By now, Ginjo, who had heard everything they said, had stalked his way back over to them. "Give me that!" he said with agitation as he swiped the spells back from Shinji's hand. Then, cursing under his breath, he stomped away again.

Watching the fuming boy's retreating back, Love tried not to laugh. "That kid's too easy."

Grinning from ear to ear, Shinji couldn't agree more.

* * *

(One week later)

"Kurosaki!" the teacher called out, stopping the blue-haired teen that had just stepped into the classroom. "Got another delivery for you." He held up the white envelope in his hand.

Keeping his face unreadable, Ginjo picked it up as he passed by the teacher's desk. When he got back to his seat, he opened the envelope and unfolded the letter inside, already overcome with a sense of dread. Pulling out the small mirror, which he now carried readily in his back pocket, he began to read his shishou's backwards writing:

_Creature of wit who boggles the mind_

_Fifty-four pounds pressure_

_Twenty-three tinkle_

_The screeching monkey grabs a nut_

_Bakudou Negative Eleven: Bladder Clutch_

_Love insists that you learn this one next. Memorize it, or we won't let you in the door._

_P.S. – If you don't come back within a week, Mashiro will pay you a visit…at your school._

Ginjo leaned forward and smacked his forehead against his desk, feeling drained already. _Morons… They're all frickin' morons…_

"Giiiiiiin-saaaaaaaan!!!!!"

Ginjo groaned but raised his head nonetheless to look at his perpetually perky classmate. "Asano…as hard as it is to believe…you're actually not the biggest idiot in the world."

Hiro's eyes slowly widened as the words sank in. "Gin-san…" he began as his eyes brimmed with tears of joy. "That's the first time you ever complimented me!"

With another groan, Ginjo let his forehead drop back to his desk.

* * *

A/N: When Ginjo insisted on becoming a vizard, he had _no_ idea what he was getting himself into. LOL!

Just in case, bakudou are binding spells and hadou are destructive/offensive spells.

Hiroyuki means 'widespread happiness', according to this one website. He may be an idiot, but he's a happy-go-lucky idiot. Sounds like something Keigo might name his kid. Most just call him Hiro, but Ginjo calls him Asano because he wants to establish _some_ sort of distance between them. Heh… In any case, Hiro will likely have another cameo somewhere down the line.

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	16. Searching

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I just got a new computer! Not directly a "Bleach" item, I know, but hey, I get to do all those Bleach-related things with a faster/smoother/nicer system, so in the end it all relates. Heh…

* * *

**Sixteenth Glimpse: Searching**

(Himeko – Age fourteen)

"Hey…do you think…I should dye my hair?" she asked dully as she studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror, running a hand through her bright orange locks with a solemn expression on her features.

Standing beside her with a toothbrush in his mouth, her brother furrowed his brows. "Why are ya asking _me_?" he inquired through a mouthful of toothpaste. To him, hair color fell under the category of 'girl stuff'. He didn't even want to hear about it, let alone give advice.

"Because…you know what I used to look like," she replied, still staring at herself as though in a trance.

Ginjo spit the toothpaste into the sink and began to rinse his mouth with water, a sense of dread already beginning to creep up his spine. He had a pretty good idea what was coming next.

Himeko turned to face him. "Gin-chan…do I _really_ look the same as Orihime?"

He tossed his toothbrush into a cup on the counter, the feeling of dread that came up his spine suddenly exploding into agitation once it reached his head. "Yes. _Yes!_ How many times do I have to tell you, YES?! Your face is the same! Your eyes are the same! The length of your hair is the same! Even the way you wear your pins in your hair is the same! What more do you want?! Shit!" He paused to catch his breath after that rant then added, "And it's Ginjo, damn it!"

She gave a small frown, already too used to his outbursts to be fazed by it in the least. "The hair color's off."

He grumbled as he ran a hand down his face. "Why are you so obsessed with looking _exactly_ the same as Orihime?"

"I just need to make sure," she said quietly as she cast her eyes dejectedly to the floor. "Make sure that he'd recognize me…"

Ginjo winced internally. He really shouldn't have asked. This sort of talk ranked pretty high on his list of 'situations that made him extremely uncomfortable'. It wasn't like the reason wasn't obvious either, but he just _had_ to walk right into it. "You're a frickin' carbon copy. Stop being anal."

"Yeah, but…" She heaved a slightly frustrated sigh. "What if we passed each other on the street somewhere, and I was daydreaming and didn't see him? I want him to be able to pick me out of the crowd."

"Then you should definitely keep the hair," he deadpanned. "It's like a bright orange beacon. _Anyone_ can pick you out of a crowd."

She frowned up at him. "I'm being serious!"

He folded his arms. "Look, princess. Akari had black hair, and we _still_ recognized you the last go round. So, I don't know what the heck you're so worked up about. He'd recognize you even if you had purple hair and horns growing out of your head." It was really more about recognizing her spiritual aura than her appearance anyhow.

She hung her head once more. It was difficult not knowing. Not knowing where Ulquiorra was. Not knowing what he was doing. Not knowing what he looked like now. Not knowing if he was even still alive. Not knowing if they really would find each other again someday. Not knowing anything. "…I miss him."

Ginjo had to consciously prevent himself from recoiling, his level of discomfort skyrocketing in the face of her depression. He really was no good at this sort of thing. With a roll of his eyes, he reluctantly pulled the girl into his arms.

In the comfort of her brother's embrace, Himeko began to shed silent tears.

He sighed. "You had another dream, didn't you?" It was more a statement than a question.

"Mm."

"So? Where was he this time?"

"In the south pole." He could hear her pout in her voice. "He was raised by a polar bear. It's so cold inside his igloo. Everyday, he has to sit at the edge of the glacier and fish to survive. It's so lonely, and he's stuck there. The only one he can talk to is Peeka."

Ginjo quirked a brow. "Who the hell's Peeka?"

"His pet penguin."

Well…Ginjo had to at least give her credit for being able to dream up all these crazy scenarios. In her last dream, Ulquiorra was reborn into an extremely wealthy family. However, due to his poor health and frail body, his parents never let him leave their castle-style home, making it impossible for him to ever meet up with the two of them again. In the dream before that, he was some kind of extra special secret agent. Bound by his responsibilities to protect the world from space aliens, ancient mythical deep sea monsters, robots, and what not, he was never able to find time to come looking for them. But Ginjo's personal favorite was the one where Ulquiorra was a part of some tribe on a remote tropical island somewhere. During the day, he would go hunting with a spear. In the evenings, he would participate in tribal dances around a bonfire, fully equipped with a grass skirt, face paint, hand drums, and the whole shebang. Then in the middle of the night, when everyone else was asleep, he'd be by the beach building himself a raft so he could cross the perilous ocean to come find them. Really…how Himeko could even picture _that _guy doing a tribal dance of all things was beyond Ginjo. Though he had to admit, it was a sight he would pay to see. "…you really need to curb that imagination of yours."

She sniffled.

"Quit crying already, or _I'm_ gonna start missing him," he complained.

"Why?" She didn't really see how she factored into it.

"Cuz this is _his_ job," he replied flatly. Anything remotely mushy was in Ulquiorra's department in his mind.

Himeko chuckled and wiped her tears as she stepped back away from him, feeling a bit of relief after that mini crying session. Looking up at him now with a small smile, she asked, "So, how much money have you saved up?"

Himeko had been helping out at their grandfather's clinic for a while now as a means to earn some money. After some persistent nagging, she had convinced Ginjo to get a part time job as well...though it was only at Shinji's garage, and she suspected that he probably spent way more time _under_ the garage than in it. Still, it was better than nothing.

Ginjo raised a brow at her question. "For what?"

She fixed him with a look that said it was something he should already know. "For our next trip so we can go look for him again!"

He averted his eyes. "Oh…that…"

It was her turn to fold her arms. "Don't tell me you spent all your money on food again," she said accusingly.

"Even if I didn't, it's not like we _need_ to do all that extra traveling," he argued. "We're already being forced to go on at least one trip every year."

"School field trips don't count!"

He rolled his eyes. "I've already said it before. Karakura's the most obvious place to meet up, so just stay put. He'll show…eventually."

"But what if he really _is_ in the south pole, or on some island or mountain?" she asked worriedly. "Or maybe he's really poor and can't afford to go anywhere?"

"He's a resourceful bastard," Ginjo said with nonchalance. "He'll figure it out."

"How can you be so carefree about this?" It really was quite baffling to her.

Ginjo placed his hands on Himeko's shoulders with a sigh. "He'll find you. He's hell-bent on it. So, quit worrying about it so much."

She frowned at his suspiciously patronizing tone of voice. "Fine. If you don't want to go, then I'll go by myself," she said stubbornly.

He shook his head as he walked past her and out of the bathroom. "I'm telling ya, you'll just be wasting your energy."

Alone, Himeko huffed another breath of frustration. She understood what Ginjo was trying to say and his words made a lot of sense, but…how could he expect her to be content with just sitting still and doing nothing?

* * *

(Uriya – Age fifteen)

From the living room sofa, Uryuu's ears perked up when he heard the sound of keys at the front door. He looked up from his sewing just as Uriya entered the house with a traveling pack slung over one shoulder, returning home from yet another one of his trips. The boy had only been gone for three days this time, so Uryuu hadn't been too terribly lonely. However, judging from the tired look on the boy's stoic features, it must have been a rather long three days. "Welcome home."

"Tou-san," the boy said simply in way of greeting.

"How was your trip?"

"Fine."

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Would you like something to drink?"

"No."

"…" Uryuu withheld his sigh. It would seem that the boy was on super antisocial mode. "So, I take it you didn't find what you were looking for this time either."

The young Quincy glanced at his father, then just as quickly looked away. "I'm going to my room. I need to rest."

"Wait, wait!" Uryuu blurted, silently berating himself for bringing up that conversation killer. Then, applying his supersonic sewing capabilities, he put the finishing touches on the garment he was working on. Getting to his feet, he held it up for his son to see. "Here. This is for you," he said, hoping that this change of subject could lighten the boy's spirits a little. "Do you like it?"

Uriya gave the garment an indifferent once over. Unsurprisingly, it was another Quincy outfit. "It's the same as the one you gave me last week," he commented dryly.

"No, the detail on the _cuffs_ is different," Uryuu pointed out in a tone that questioned how anyone could possibly miss such a thing. When Uriya merely gave him that unconvinced stare without saying a word, Uryuu placed the white outfit into the boy's hands with a slightly exasperated sigh. "Just take it."

Uriya looked dispassionately at the new clothes he had just received. "Thank you," he said, quietly and none too enthusiastically, then turned to go up the stairs.

Uryuu shook his head but let the boy be. He knew from experience that if Uriya didn't want to talk, there wasn't anything anyone could do to change his mind.

Upon entering his room, Uriya dropped his pack onto the floor to be dealt with later, too exhausted to unpack immediately.

He went to open his closet door, thinking that the least he could do was put the new…albeit unnecessary…outfit away. However, the moment he slid open said closet's door, his entire collection of Quincy outfits came tumbling out into the room like an avalanche of white fabric, covering the floor in an instant.

Uriya stood unmoving as he stared dully at the sea of white around him. His collection had finally outgrown his closet. At times like this, he really wished he still had the ability to access Garganta.

After some thought, he tossed the clothes in his hands onto the floor so it could join the flood. Even though he liked keeping things clean and orderly, at that moment…he couldn't find it in himself to really care.

Stepping over the clothes, he made his way over to his desk. From the bottom of the first drawer, he retrieved a folded piece of paper. Carefully unfolding it so as not to destroy it, he laid it out on his desk: a map of the world. He had been using this map since the age of ten, and the edges were worn and crumpled. It had been folded and unfolded so many times that the paper was already tearing at the creases.

Fishing out a red pen from the same drawer, he leaned over the map and placed an X over the name of yet another city. Taking a step back, he scanned the map with his eyes, noting all the red sprinkled everywhere…a testament to his incompetence.

For the past five years, he had been keeping track of all the places he'd been to. Because his father did the kind of work that he did, and because he often tagged along on his father's business trips, he had already been traveling a lot more than the average person since a young age. In addition, ever since he had been deemed old enough to travel on his own, he had started taking solo trips in between the ones he took with his father. The amount of ground he had covered, as indicated by the many dense clusters of X's on the map, could only be considered impressive. Still, to this day, he had yet to find any hint or shadow of either of the two people he had been so tirelessly searching for.

Was it incompetence? Had he overlooked something? Was it his luck? Or did fate simply enjoyed tormenting him, life…after life…after life…

The red pen snapped into two in his hand, and he let its remains fall to the floor.

He remained standing over the map, staring down at it.

His eyes empty.

His expression blank.

His soul drained.

* * *

(Ginjo – Age sixteen)

He lay in Ginjo's bed, facing the wall with the blanket pulled up to his chin.

_Stay here and shut up, he says... If anyone comes in then play dead, he says…_

Kon frowned. It was no fun being in Ginjo's body when he had to play the part of the 'Ginjo dummy' lying in bed while the real thing snuck out in the middle of the night. Not only was it unfair, it was downright wrong! Didn't Ichigo ever teach the kid to respect his elders? But instead, that little devil always treated him more like a pawn or a personal lackey…just something to make his life more convenient.

Where the heck was he disappearing to all the time anyway? It sure as heck wasn't hollow fighting. Kon had good senses, and he could tell when there were hollows nearby. However, Kon was positive that nine out of ten times when Ginjo went out on his midnight ventures, there had been no hollow activity in the area. If the boy had a different personality, Kon might have guessed that he was out peeking into girls' rooms with his invisible body. But as it stood, Ginjo was more interested in a can of soda than he was in the opposite sex. Kon sometimes had to wonder if the boy even knew the difference between males and females…

Well, whatever Ginjo was up to, Kon didn't see why he had to be a part of it. What did Ginjo mean by 'play dead' anyway? If anybody _bothered_ to barge into his room at this hour, they would be able to figure out that he wasn't Ginjo just from the difference in their reiatsu. It was pointless for Kon to play the dummy.

He blinked then bolted up in the bed. _Wait a minute… If I'm the one who's stupidly doing whatever Ginjo tells me to do…especially when the task was pointless…then doesn't that mean __**I'm**__ the idiot?!_

Why did he even play along to begin with? He certainly wasn't _obligated_ to keep quiet about Ginjo's late night activities. Conversely, being the adult here, and therefore Ginjo's guardian, the right thing to do would be to report any suspicious behavior on the boy's part to Nee-san…even though he would be doing it more out of spite than duty, but that was an unimportant detail. _That's right! I won't stand for this mistreatment anymore!_

Consumed in his thoughts, Kon had failed to realize that he was no longer alone in the room until a hand reached out and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, yanking him up slightly. When he looked up, he only had time to catch a glimpse of Ginjo's face before the boy's gloved hand came down on his forehead and unceremoniously pushed him out of the body.

Ginjo shoved the green pill back into the lion's mouth then tossed it back into its drawer. By the time the livid mod soul poked his head out of the drawer again with a passionate complaint ready to fire off, Ginjo had already returned to his body and was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with glazed-over eyes. If not for the steady rise and fall of his chest, he could have passed as a corpse.

Kon opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come. It would seem that the devil had lost his steam. Before long, Kon's anger had simmered down to nothing as a dispirited sigh escaped his lips. Watching the boy now, he was reminded once again why he had never mentioned any of this to anyone.

More often than not, Ginjo would return home in this worn out state. There was such an uncharacteristic air of defeat about him that Kon didn't have the heart to make things any more miserable for the kid. Really…he wasn't sure if he should feel honored or saddened to be the only one to ever see this side of Kurosaki Ginjo, but he found it more than just a little frustrating that the boy didn't know how much he was making him worry by not telling him anything.

Ginjo turned his head and stared out the window. It had been another fruitless night of searching. Not to mention, the process was steadily becoming more taxing on his strength. It had been easier in the beginning, when he had only been combing the towns and cities closer to home. However, now he was relying more and more heavily on shunpo to get him to places farther and farther away. But even with that extra boost in speed, there was still a limit to his range since there was no way he could shunpo his way around the world and be back before morning. He really hoped he'd be able to find Ulquiorra before he reached that limit…

Ginjo scowled even as he closed his eyes. _Damn it…you bastard…where the hell are you?_

From his drawer, Kon quietly watched over Ginjo until the youth finally fell asleep. Looking out the window, he could already see the first rays of dawn. With a shake of his head, he ducked back into his drawer, already knowing with a hundred percent certainty that Ginjo would be getting detention for falling asleep in class that day.

* * *

A/N: Wow. First, I don't update for a month. Then when I do, first new chapter of this year, and it's like…a total downer. What's up with that? Haha! Well, I actually have been working on the story…just on things that don't happen until much further down the line. Heh…

As much as Kon gripes and complains, he really does love Ginjo. Really. Haha. They kind of have a weird relationship going. It functions like a partnership with the whole shinigami thing, though they bicker and fight like siblings. But with the obvious size and personality differences, their relationship takes on more of a master and pet feel for the most part. LOL! However, despite all that, from Kon's perspective, Ginjo's still just a kid…one whom he had watched grow up since birth…so he worries about him in that sense, especially given Ginjo's reckless nature. In his own way, Kon kinda spoils him a little. His keeping quiet about Ginjo's midnight ventures being an example.

Many thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	17. Smuggle

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo.

* * *

**Seventeenth Glimpse: Smuggle**

(Love – Ageless)

Humming a happy tune, Love strolled down the sidewalk with a duffle bag in one hand, moving to the beat of the rhythm in his head with a spring to his steps. When he arrived at the park, he adjusted his sunglasses and scanned the area, hoping that today would be his lucky day.

"Aha!" he exclaimed when he spotted his target. With a wide grin on his face, the vizard made his way across the grass to a cluster of trees on the other side of the park.

Lounging under the shades, leaning up against one of the trees with his eyes closed and his hands folded over his stomach was a man with dark wavy hair that almost touched his shoulders. He was a man dressed from head to toe in pure white. A man that, out of everyone present at the park, only Love could see. A man sporting a hole on his sternum with a bone fragment adorning his neck.

He was the man who had once been known as the primera Espada. Today, however, he just liked to consider himself a retired Espada.

"Yo!" Love exclaimed as he tossed his bag to the ground before sitting with his legs crossed in front of his one-time enemy. "You're getting harder and harder to find these days, man!"

Stark cracked open one of his eyes. At the sight of the overly enthusiastic and energetic man, he almost wished he could play dead. It would seem that naptime was over. "Apparently, it wasn't hard enough." He ran a hand through his hair with a yawn, not too happy about having to wake up. All he wanted to do was sleep under the sun instead of in perpetual darkness for a change, but somehow this guy would always manage to find him.

Love rummaged through his bag as he spoke. "Aw, don't be like that! I need your help!"

By the time Stark opened his eyes after his yawn, the vizard…who was already holding out a pencil and sketchpad to him…was looking at him with a grin almost wide enough to rival Nnoitora's. Almost. The arrancar sighed as his brows creased into a slight frown. "This is why I didn't want you to find me."

"Come on, Stark ol' buddy! Be a pal!" Love urged. "Ok, look, I brought you some stuff!" Setting the sketchpad aside, he rummaged through his bag again and pulled out a whole stack of manga, shoving them all at his friend. "Here! These are some new series that just came out. I think you'll like 'em!" He dug through his bag some more, retrieving book after book. "And there's this one…and these…the new volume to that one you said you liked…and these ones…"

Before long, Stark found himself completely surrounded by Love's offerings, not sure what to make of it. Sure, the vizard did this almost every time they met. Nevertheless, Stark could never quite get over that sense of bafflement. It wasn't like he was a total fanatic or anything, definitely a far cry from Love's level of interest. Then again, it was good entertainment and helped to pass the time whenever he got tired of sleeping. There wasn't much to do in retirement after all.

The arrancar randomly picked up a volume to see what he got this time around. The moment he laid eyes on the very pink and flowery cover art, however, he immediately frowned. "…'Cream-Cream the Magical Girl'…"

Taking a closer look at the piles of manga around him, Stark noticed that there were actually quite a few that were decidedly pastel-looking. "…'Adventures in Loveland'…'1/3 Honey, 2/3 Kiss'…'My Boyfriend is a Yankee'…" He looked over at Love and blinked. "…is there something you're trying to tell me?"

Love looked up from his digging with an oblivious expression. "Huh?" Then he saw the collection of shoujo manga in Stark's hands. "Oh! Those are for the little girlie! Girls like that kinda stuff."

Stark sighed as he rested his elbow on his knee, holding his chin in hand. Bringing back a bunch of unabashedly girly things to Lilinette was the equivalent of asking to be punched in the gut. Hard. In fact, for the sake of his own wellbeing, it would be best to _not_ bring her anything at all. If she found out that he came to the living world without her again, she would probably throw a fit.

Now that the gift giving/bribing session was over, Love once again picked up the pencil and sketchpad and shoved them at Stark, wide grin in place.

With an even heavier sigh, Stark took the items.

"All right!" the vizard cheered. "I knew you'd come through for me!"

Leaning back lazily against the tree to get comfortable, Stark reluctantly opened the sketchpad to a blank page. When Love didn't say anything, he looked up. "Well?"

The vizard, who was already being distracted by the latest volume of 'One Slice', pulled his nose out of the book. "Oh, right! Uh, let's see…Ginjo's character! His gun's initial boost needs to be designed. Oh, and while you're at it, design the secondary boost, too. It'll be a while before the story gets there, but, you know…I don't really know when I'll run into you again." He was about to go back to reading when he realized he had nearly forgotten one very important detail. "And make it cool! Cuz that boy will read it, and he'll be pissed if it ain't cool."

Stark gave a light shake of his head, wondering how he always ended up getting roped into doing character designs for 'Dye', but he picked up the pencil nonetheless and began sketching away. "Ginjo," he said, musing about the boy as he tried to design a suitable upgrade for his fictional counterpart's weapon. "So, I take it you people haven't strangled him, yet."

Stark had never met Ginjo in person, though he had learned much about the boy from Love. Never in a million years would he have guessed that this was where the former sexta Espada had ended up. It was still shocking just to think about…and quite amusing. But from the sounds of it, the current incarnation of Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was still as much of a handful as ever. Stark felt somewhat sorry for anyone who had to deal with him on a regular basis.

Love laughed. "What, are you kiddin'? Shinji loves that kid! Besides, he's way too fun. Once you get him worked up, he's like nonstop entertainment!"

The image that came to Stark's mind was one of the vizards standing in a circle around a lone panther, each with a stick in his or her hand, poking at the poor cat to get him mad for kicks. In light of that, perhaps Ginjo was the one that Stark should pity. Then again, it really wasn't his problem, and it was a waste of time to think about things that essentially had nothing to do with him.

By now, Stark had finished both drawings and handed the sketchpad back over to Love. "Here."

Love looked it over as a great big smile spread across his face. He would never cease to be amazed by how easily and quickly Stark could come up with these things and put it on paper. Judging from his laid back attitude and his history as a member of the Espada, one would never have guessed that he had such a hidden talent. "You're a genius, man! This is perfect!"

Stark, however, didn't quite share in Love's enthusiasm. "So, are we done here?" he inquired dully. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Heck, no!" the vizard exclaimed as he pulled his small notebook out of his back pocket and began to flip through it. "I got a whole list of things here waiting for you!"

"You must be joking, right?"

"Aw, come on. You're a natural at this! You shouldn't waste your talents. A man must expand his horizons! You must go the distance to find your true self! One can not stand still if he is to achieve greatness! The sky is the limit when–"

"All right, all right," Stark said, his voice tinged with mild annoyance, as he held up a hand before Love's rant could turn into another one of his nonsensical conglomerate of punch lines from various manga series. "Just…stop." Resigned, he picked up the sketchpad once more.

Love flashed another grin. "Stark, my friend…I knew I could count on you."

Thus, their work session continued. Much to Stark's dismay, it lasted until sunset. Over the years, he had asked himself many times how he had managed to put up with Love's antics for so long. And more importantly…why? Yet, for reasons unknown, he would allow the same scenario to repeat itself whenever they met up.

As he returned to Hueco Mundo after having been worked for hours without any real payment to speak of, he pondered on whether or not he should look for a new hangout on his next visit to the living world…

* * *

Love returned home in high spirits. With some of the major character design issues worked out, his team should be able to release the next couple of chapters of 'Dye' on schedule.

Entering the bookstore, he found Rose at the counter with a calculator and papers spread out in front of him, tapping his pencil on the countertop with a contemplative frown on his face. "Hey, what's up, man?"

"Hmm…" The blonde's frown deepened. "I think we might have a thief."

"Huh?! For real?!"

"The numbers don't add up," Rose replied calmly despite his annoyance at the situation. He never liked accounting, and he had been doing this all day, rechecking his calculations to make sure he didn't make any mistakes. "And it's not the first time either," he added.

"Are you sure it's not just Kon?" Love inquired. "He hangs around when Ginjo's in the training room."

"Only Risa's at risk with Kon," Rose pointed out distractedly as he continued to stare at the numbers.

"Oh, I know! Then it must be the stuff we give Ginjo." Love nodded confidently to himself.

"You mean the books you _force_ Ginjo to take," Rose deadpanned. He rolled that idea around in his head for a bit. It certainly sounded plausible. Both Love and Risa seemed to find some strange pleasure in pushing their personal favorite pastime onto that boy. "…you're probably right."

"You worry too much, man. Take it easy," Love advised, patting Rose on the shoulder. "Well, my meeting with the artist went long today, so I'm gonna go crash."

Rose waved a dismissive hand to shoo Love off so he could wrap up what he was doing in peace.

As Love headed up the stairs, he scratched his face thoughtfully. _Guess I should probably lay off the smuggling for a while…_

* * *

A/N: Hmm…this mini chapter is almost like an omake. LOL! It seems kind of random, but it's actually something I've had in mind for a while now. Back in chapter 8, Love had mentioned that he writes the story for 'Dye', but some other guy does the character designs. Now you know who that other guy is. Haha! In case anyone forgot, in 'Searching'…way back when…Stark was Love and Rose's opponent in the battle. And in case anyone's wondering, the initial boost and secondary boost Love mentioned are basically his story's version of shikai and bankai respectively.

Hope you still enjoyed this chapter even though none of the trio are in it.

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	18. Baseball

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I am currently too poor to buy more Bleach stuff…

* * *

**Eighteenth Glimpse: Baseball**

(Uriya – Age sixteen)

Stepping to the edge of the roof, he silently took in the nightscape of the city below. It was rare for him to travel so far away from the place that he had come to call home…from Karakura Town. Staring at the unfamiliar scenery, Urahara debated once again on whether or not he should go through with what he had come here to do.

He couldn't help but wonder, not for the first time, why he was so reluctant to do this. It was laughable to think that it could be because of his conscience. He was so good at using and manipulating people…a talent he exercised much more than he should…he probably didn't have much conscience left to speak of.

Just like how he had used Rukia by implanting the hougyoku within her, turning her into Aizen's target, putting her through suffering she did not deserve. Or like how he had manipulated Ichigo into going to Soul Society to fight in his stead under the guise of helping the boy to save the person that had become so important to him. Without hesitation, he had pumped Ichigo, an innocent and still a child at the time, full of power and placed all of his hopes and burden on his shoulders. Both Rukia and Ichigo have had more than just a brush with death, no thanks to Urahara.

Then there was Inoue Orihime, from whom Urahara had taken everything…with whom he was still trying to make amends…

True to his despicable nature, while trying to lighten the weight of his most unforgivable sin, he had once again made use of Ichigo, this time involving Uryuu as well, by dictating who would be their children. As much as Urahara liked to claim that he had made his decision based on his sense of humor, the truth was he had done it to ensure that those three would meet again. Nonetheless, despite everyone being content with the fate that _he_ had dealt them, it did not change the fact that it was not his place, and far from his right, to alter people's fates the way he did.

The exiled shinigami had hoped that that would be all the divine intervention he would have to carry out. With what he had already done, Urahara really didn't want to interfere with Uryuu's life any further. He wanted the Quincy to live the rest of his life uninterrupted and, more importantly, Urahara-free. But who would have ever thought that Ishida Uryuu would never set foot in Karakura even once since the day he had left? That boy simply took off and never turned back, not even to pay his own father a visit. Then again, his father might actually have been a contributing factor to the reasons why he had stayed away. And with the world at peace, there had been no pressing reasons for the Quincy to reunite with his old nakama. Not that Urahara was cursing the fact that there had been no major crisis involving the afterlife. It just didn't quite favor his own plans.

So, after all these years, he figured it was about time for another round of divine intervention. After all, he couldn't keep his princess waiting any longer.

Urahara closed his eyes and adjusted his hat, sending Uryuu his silent apology. _This will be the last time…You have my word._

It would be his final act. The one to wrap up the long chain of events that he had set in motion when he had created the hougyoku.

As if on cue, the door behind him opened and a redheaded boy and a pigtailed girl joined him on the roof.

Urahara turned to the pair with a grin. "So, how was it?" Since they had time to spare, he had told the two of them to take the opportunity to enjoy themselves and explore the city.

"It was fun. This city is a lot bigger than Karakura," Ururu replied with a shy smile. Then she held out a small gift bag to Urahara. "Here, Kisuke-san. These are for you."

Urahara accepted the unexpected offer, peering into the bag curiously to find a collection of various flashy and colorful treats and candies. "Why, thank you!" he exclaimed, giving the girl a pat on the head.

Jinta stepped up to the shinigami's other side with his arms folded behind his head. "You know…you might actually get some business if you sold these kinds of candies," he said flatly.

Urahara turned to the boy with a pout that was meant to annoy. "What's wrong with my gummy hollows? What do you have against my chocolate covered cookie zanpakutous?"

Jinta backed away, slightly apprehensive. "N-nothing…" He looked away with a huff. "I was just sayin'…" Honestly. Did the man even know how to do business? By the time he looked back at his boss from the corner of his eyes, the shinigami had already directed his attention back out into the distance, seemingly in thought.

"Jinta…Ready to work?" Urahara inquired with an unreadable expression, his eyes still glued to the horizon.

The boy blinked up at him then grinned. "You bet!" He flexed his muscles and swung his arms around, loosening them up as he walked away from Urahara.

"Do you remember where it's to be delivered?"

"Of course!" Jinta affirmed as he crouched over his bag and dug through his belongings, almost offended at the suggestion that he would forget such a thing.

"Are you sure you can make it from here?"

Jinta stood up with his baseball bat in hand, tapping it on his shoulder with an ever widening grin. "You just leave that to me," he declared with smug confidence.

"Well, in that case…" Urahara looked over his shoulder at the boy, an equally wide and mischievous grin suddenly plastered on his face. "Have at it!" Reaching inside his coat, he retrieved a baseball and tossed it to Ururu.

Jinta got into ready position, test swinging his bat for a bit. At times like this, he _really_ loved his job. Urahara might be a crappy businessman, but where in the heck would he find another boss man who would give him a green flag to basically vandalize without consequence?

"Ready, Jinta-kun?" Ururu asked meekly.

"Ah!"

She wound up her arm as she prepared to pitch, her frail appearance belying her strength.

He concentrated on the ball, his hands gripping the bat tight. "Jinta…Home…"

The ball came flying at the speed of light.

"…RUN!"

The bat connected and the ball took off like a bullet, zooming past Urahara, flying between all the skyscrapers of the commercial district, soaring over the river, heading into the residential area, aiming for a particular house.

Urahara tracked the projectile through a pair of binoculars. "Ohhh…." he said, voice laced with amusement. "It's a homerun, all right," he announced, the grin on his features making it difficult for anyone to believe that he could possibly be feeling any ounce of guilt about what he was doing…

* * *

Standing in the middle of the living room in the midst of scattered fabrics with his chin in hand, chewing thoughtfully on the three pins he had sticking out of his mouth, Uryuu stared at the mannequin before him. More accurately, he was staring at his next creation in the making that was currently draped on the doll.

His lips twisted disapprovingly as he tilted his head slightly. _There's just something not quite…balanced about it…_

He sighed, frustrated that he couldn't figure this thing out. If only Uriya would make an exception and help him out just this _one_ time. However, when he had approached his son about it, the boy had kindly slammed his bedroom door in his face. Uryuu would never quite understand why Uriya hated modeling so much. It wasn't like he was asking him to do the catwalk or anything. And this piece didn't even have any lace on it.

Uryuu blinked as inspiration struck. _Hmm…maybe it needs some lace…_

Unfortunately for the designer, he didn't have much time to expand on that thought when an unidentified flying object came crashing in through his window, knocking the mannequin's head off, and hitting the wall with a…splatter?

In that split second, instinct took over and his bow materialized in his hand in no time. Spitting the pins out of his mouth, his eyes searched the room while his senses searched beyond the walls, seeking the location of his unknown enemy. When his eyes darted back to the wall that had been hit, however…he froze. _This looks familiar…_

He dropped his guard and grumbled as his mood turned sour.

Hurried footsteps could be heard as Uriya came down the stairs. With the sound of the commotion followed by the sudden flaring of his father's reiatsu, the young Quincy was prepared to meet trouble. He scanned the room before looking at the lone figure standing in the middle of it. "What happened?" he inquired, his voice sounding far too calm.

Uryuu closed his eyes with a sigh as he put his weapon away. "Airmail," he said dryly.

"…Airmail," Uriya deadpanned his echo. Saying it didn't make the idea any less ridiculous than it had sounded.

"Yes…from Urahara Kisuke." Uryuu looked pointedly at the wall behind his son.

Uriya's eyes widened fractionally at the sound of that name. Then following his father's line of sight, he turned to see the message that was now dripping down their living room wall as though it had been scrawled in fresh blood. _Still as tasteless as ever, I see…_

The message was simple: "Return to Karakura… P.S.: It's important."

After spending some time staring at the horror movie-esque blot that had marred their otherwise spotless home, Uriya turned to look at his father. "What will you do?"

Uryuu almost laughed at the question. What was he _supposed_ to do? "Nothing," he said with an air of nonchalance, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what that man's up to, but if he thinks he can make me do his bidding with just five words on my wall and no explanation, he is sorely mistaken."

* * *

(Two nights later)

The Ishidas were in the middle of dinner when the no-longer-unidentified flying object came crashing through the dining room window, over the table, and splattered onto the wall.

Father and son eyed the wall in silence as another bloody message magically dripped itself into existence. It was a repeat of the one from two nights ago.

They looked across the table at each other.

Uryuu dropped his forehead onto the table, a bit too frustrated for words.

Uriya got up and walked out of the room, returning with a broom to sweep up the remains of the innocent vase that had fallen victim to the baseball's attack.

* * *

(Another two nights later)

Uryuu had just stepped out of the bathroom after a shower when he heard the sound of shattering glass. The heel of his palm came up to meet his forehead. "Not again…"

When he got down to the living room, he was surprised to find nothing out of the ordinary on the walls. That, however, did not mean that the room had escaped the fate of being turned into something that looked like a murder scene. Not at all.

His couch…his beautiful white couch…was now drenched in what looked like blood splatters. The baseball had apparently missed the wall this time, landing on the couch instead.

Uryuu clenched his fists as he struggled to stay calm. "Damn you, Urahara Kisuke!!"

* * *

(Many, many nights later)

Uryuu stood between the living room and the dining room, alert and waiting. He was dealing with madness, but there was actually a method to the madness. A new baseball would come every other night. There was a two-hour time frame within which it would arrive, and it would either hit the living room or the dining room. He had tried tracing them back to see where they were coming from, but every time the baseball would come in from a different angle, meaning that madman was constantly on the move. Therefore, all he could do was wait.

The Quincy scanned his surroundings with watchful eyes. _Where will it be coming from this time…?_

A window shattered from somewhere behind him.

Uryuu whirled around. "The living room!" But as luck would have it, it was the window farthest away from him. He wouldn't make it. His TV was a goner.

The baseball zipped across the room and…right into the bare hand of Ishida Uriya, completely intact.

The boy contemplated as he stared down at the object in his hand. "Let's go," he said as he turned to his father. "To Karakura." Having had enough of this continuing nonsense aside, he couldn't shake the feeling that the message was actually meant for him.

Uryuu slumped his shoulders with a sigh. "I'd be lying if I said I'm not the least bit concerned, but…" He huffed with agitation. "Why can't that man come knock on my door and just _talk_ to me like a normal person?"

"You are talking about Urahara Kisuke," Uriya reminded.

"Ah…right…" Uryuu agreed dully. For that man, underhanded harassment from the shadows _would_ be considered normal.

Uriya eyed his father with a small smirk. "I'm sure Jii-san will be happy to see you."

Uryuu frowned. Ryuuken hadn't even crossed his mind until now. "You mean he'd be happy to see _you_," he replied, trying not to let too much sarcasm seep into his voice.

"There's always Kurosaki Ichigo," the boy added, the subtle smirk still tugging at the corner of his lips. Although he himself would be happy with never crossing paths with that orange-haired shinigami again, his father most likely felt differently on the matter.

"Kurosaki, huh?" Uryuu shook his head with a small smile at the thought of that idiot. He could imagine that the first thing Ichigo would do upon seeing him again for the first time after all these years would be to give him hell about not keeping in touch. Considering the fact that his son was now almost as tall as he was…Uryuu was in for an earful. Was that really something to look forward to?

Then again, it really had been far too long. It would be nice to reconnect with old friend.

Uryuu heaved a sigh, rubbing his temples as he made his decision. "…I guess Urahara-san wins this one."

* * *

A/N: So, did anyone realize just from the title what the chapter would be about? Haha!

Uriya should count himself lucky that the baseball he caught didn't splatter all over him. That would have been so uncool. LOL! And sorry, my boy…even though you're not thrilled about seeing Ichigo, you're going to be seeing a lot of him soon. Heh…

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	19. Rocks and Kisses

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I want bat wings! Now!!

* * *

A/N: Seems a bit anticlimactic, when all the chapters so far have been building up to their reunion, for me to skip over that particular event. But since that part has already been written, it would be redundant (if not retarded) for me to post it again here. LOL! So, for the actual reunion, please read the last chapter of "Searching". Here, we shall continue forth…

* * *

**Nineteenth Glimpse: Rocks and Kisses**

(Post reunion. Ginjo – Age seventeen. Uriya – Age sixteen. Himeko – Age fifteen.)

The lunch bell rang and the students began to disperse, flooding into the hallways of Karakura High. While some filed into the school's cafeteria, others went to seek out their friends in other classrooms. Most however, lured by the clear blue sky, opted to enjoy their meal outdoors.

As usual, Ginjo stayed put, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, trying to decide what he was hungry for as he waited for the crowds to scatter before getting up. He definitely wasn't in the mood for cafeteria food. Maybe he should go to the burger joint that was close by…but he didn't really have enough money on him. Perhaps he should go see what Shinji and them are having for lunch. Then he could eat all he wanted for free…but if he went there, he probably wouldn't bother coming back for afternoon classes…which would result in him having to hear about it for _hours_ from his sister…which, he knew from experience, really wasn't something that floated his boat…

As Ginjo continued to ponder on the serious matter at hand, a group of students had gathered by the windows, focusing on something out in the school yard.

"Who the heck's _that_ kid?" one of the boys asked.

"Oh! New guy," a girl supplied helpfully. "Just transferred into my class yesterday."

"Whoa…he's got guts…" another boy said with a bit of awe.

"Pfft! It's obviously ignorance," someone snickered.

"All right! Fresh meat!" laughed another. "He's soooooo going to get it!"

"So, um…" the first kid began, lowering the volume of his voice to almost a whisper. "Is anyone gonna tell you-know-who?" he asked, jabbing a thumb towards Ginjo, who was still consumed in his thoughts.

"No way! I don't have a death wish!" one of them voiced while most simply shook their heads vigorously in decline.

"Aw, come on! Where's the fun in that?"

"That's just mean," a girl said with a frown. "Look at him. He's already so…" She paused as she tried to find the right word to describe the new kid. "…gloomy looking. Just let him be."

"You just don't get it," another boy sighed with a shake of his head. "Misery loves company. We wanna see him get it."

"She's probably just being nice and showing him around," another girl speculated. "You know…since he's so sad-looking and all."

"HOLY CRAP!" someone hollered from behind, scaring the group of students into turning around.

Unbeknownst to them, the ever curious Asano Hiroyuki had joined in on their little gathering and, looking over their heads, he saw the anomaly that had caught everyone's attention. Being the loyal friend that he was, Hiro immediately turned to the one who had claimed the place of 'fearless leader' in his heart. "Gin-san!! You gotta take a look at this! There's some sad and gloomy guy hanging around Himeko-chan!"

Ginjo's head snapped up, turning to Hiro with a scowl. "What did you say?" Up until this point, he had pretty much tuned out the conversations in his immediate surroundings. That last statement, however, caught his attention and his 'protective older brother' switch flipped on. Putting his hunger on standby, he made his way over to the windows, wondering which sad and gloomy bastard would dare lay a hand on his sister, already devising creative ways to skin that idiot alive if need be.

The group of teenagers made way, and Ginjo stepped up to the glass. They all held their breaths, watching him from the corner of their eyes, bracing themselves for the inevitable explosion.

It didn't take long for Ginjo to spot his sister's bright orange hair. She was in the school yard, talking amiably with someone. And when he saw who that someone was, his anger subsided. "Oh. It's just him," Ginjo mumbled flatly, his voice conveying disinterest. "It's fine."

"WHAT?!!" the male half of the group chorused as they looked at Ginjo with disbelieving eyes. Every one of them had, at one point in his life, been manhandled by the Blue-Haired Devil for getting too close to Himeko…the definition of 'too close' ranging from actually trying to hit on her down to something as miniscule as grinning a bit too widely when conversing with the girl. So, for Ginjo to have practically no reaction to what he had just seen…it was definitely a shocker.

Ginjo eyed them with a frown that dared them to question him. "What? Got a problem with that?" After receiving a group effort of no's, head shakes, and hand waves, Ginjo shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered out of the classroom.

Once he was gone, the group turned their attention back out the windows.

"So…_who's_ that kid again?"

* * *

Contrary to popular perception, the sad and gloomy guy in question was actually _not_ in the process of pursuing the widely-known-to-be-off-limits orange-haired princess. In fact…it was probably more like the other way around.

"Come on, Uriya. Just tell me," Himeko said pleadingly as she tried to keep pace with the young Quincy who was busy trying to avoid having to answer her question. Current tactic in employment: walk really fast. "Pleeeeeease????"

"I thought you said it didn't matter," Uriya responded, still sounding as cool and collected as ever despite the increasing sense of discomfort he was feeling within. When he had kissed her yesterday…the day when they finally found each other again…she had asked him if that was their first kiss. In hindsight, it might have been better if he had simply told her 'yes'.

"Well…it doesn't," she said, playing with her fingers as she averted her eyes. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to _know_ what our first kiss was like," she added quietly. It was a rather embarrassing thing for her to ask, but…anyone in her position would naturally want to know that, wouldn't they?

Uriya picked up his pace a little, obviously still unconvinced. How he was able to walk so fast without looking like he was actually in a hurry was something of a mystery.

"Uriya!" she just about whined as she followed, her track team skills paying off. "It's not really fair that only _you_ know, right?" she reasoned. "And it makes me feel…weird. Like I've got amnesia…even though I know it has nothing to do with amnesia…" Her brows furrowed slightly in thought as she wondered if she was making any sense.

Finally, Uriya came to a stop, turning to face her with a small sigh. He reached out and tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering as the strands slipped slowly between his fingers. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

She brightened at his change of heart. "Of course!"

He searched her hopeful eyes, filled with such fantastic anticipation. "Whatever it is that you're imagining…I assure you, it's not it."

"Um…ok?" She wasn't really sure how she should interpret that.

"You most likely will not like it," he said bluntly.

"Eh?" She scratched her temple with her finger and looked up at him with a quirked brow, somewhat skeptical. "It can't be _that_ bad, can it?"

He placed his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes before giving his non-committal answer. "Perhaps we should find a place to sit down."

* * *

(Ukita and Genji – Age ten. Akari – Age nine.)

_Within the walls of Hayashi Akira's castle, standing atop the wooden bridge that spanned across the garden's very impressive koi pond, was a man with a mission. Or, more precisely, a boy with a fishing pole._

_Leaning against the railing while tapping his foot with impatience, Genji waited for a fish to fall prey. A couple of the big fat ones have been tempting him for a while now, so he figured…what the heck. Nobody would care if the pond was missing a fish or two, right? What he couldn't understand, however, was why it was taking so long, since the pond was practically overflowing with koi._

_"What are you doing, Gen-chan?" Akari asked suddenly from his left._

_He had been so irritated by his lack of progress that he never even noticed when she had approached. "You're lucky my hands are tied," he said, shooting her a glare. Otherwise, he'd be pinching her cheek right about now for calling him by that name. But, back to the point… "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm obviously fishing."_

_She stood on the tip of her toes and leaned over the bridge curiously. There were actually plenty of fishes swimming around the fishing line, but they all seemed to swim right by it without any interest. "What are you using as bait?"_

_"Leftovers."_

_Akari turned to him with a slight frown of confusion. "But you never __**have**__ leftovers," she pointed out. Genji always cleaned his plate. If given the opportunity, he'd clean Ukita's for him, too._

_Genji rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid, Akari. I got plans to eat the fish myself, so why would I share __**my**__ food with it? It's leftover horse feed." He'd been working in the stable that morning, feeding the horses. If hay was good enough for horses, it should be good enough for fishes, too, shouldn't it?_

_"So…you've been trying to catch a fish with dead grass?" Akari asked. "No wonder it's not working."_

_Genji frowned at her. She might have a sweet voice, but she was definitely insulting him just now. All right then, maybe using hay wasn't such a good idea. So…what should he use?_

_That was when something caught his eye: a sparkly, dangly, expensive looking hair accessory hanging from Akari's head. "Let me borrow that," he said and pulled it out of her hair before she knew what he was talking about._

_"Hey!" she protested as her hands instinctively reached up to her hair. "Give it back!"_

_"Don't worry," he said offhandedly as he pulled up the fishing line and pulled off all the hay that he had somehow managed to tie to the hook. "I'll only use it for a little while." He tied the hair pin to the fishing line and tossed it back into the water. "There. That should catch their attention."_

_Akari pouted, none too happy. "You know, you're going to get into trouble for fishing in Father's pond."_

_Genji waved a dismissive hand, focused on watching what was happening in the water. "How bad can it be?"_

_"You might lose your head," came Ukita's impassive voice from his right. Apparently, he had joined up without either of them noticing._

_Genji turned to Ukita with wide eyes and slacked jaws, too preoccupied with what he had just heard to wonder how the other boy had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "Wha…?" Losing his dinner he could understand. Even having to work in the stable doing nothing but clean horse crap for ten days he could still understand. But losing his head?!!_

_While his mind was being invaded by these thoughts, Genji unwittingly let go of the fishing pole in his hands, dropping it into the waters below._

_"Ah! My hair pin!!" Akari exclaimed._

_All three of them leaned over the railing to peer into the pond. There were only about four feet between the bridge and the water, but even at this proximity, it was impossible to see much below the water's surface._

_"Get it back, Gen-chan!" Akari insisted._

_"Huh?" Genji responded with uncertainty. The water was so murky; there was no telling how deep it actually was. "You've got plenty of other hair things, don't you?"_

_"That one was Mother's!" The young princess was in a panic, tears threatening to fall._

_Genji gulped. This wasn't good. If it involved a memento of her dead mother, it definitely wasn't good. "Well…if it was that important, you should have said so!"_

_"You didn't give me a chance, stupid Gen-chan!"_

_It was definitely time for Genji to request for backup. "Oi, Ukita." But when he turned around, the boy was nowhere to be found. "Where'd he go?"_

_Akari gasped. "He's in the water!" She ran past Genji and stepped off the bridge, standing by the water's edge. "Ukita!"_

_The boy was already halfway to his destination when he turned around at the sound of her voice. "Please wait there, Hime-sama." With that, he continued to wade through the waters. The bottom of the pond was filled with moss-covered rocks and pebbles, so he had to be cautious. On the bright side, the water was only coming up to a little over his knees. He could probably retrieve the princess's item without much trouble._

_Akari, however, didn't seem to have heard a single word Ukita said. Without hesitation, she walked right into the water. No more than three steps in, she tripped. Lucky for her, someone caught her arm before she turned into a watery mess._

_"Are you an idiot?" Genji asked. "You're wearing a kimono, and you didn't even take off your sandals. Of course, you're gonna trip."_

_She turned and stuck her tongue out at him with furrowed brows. Despite knowing that he was right, she stubbornly ventured forth._

_With another roll of his eyes, Genji followed closely behind, hovering over the girl in case there should be a repeat of what had just occurred._

_By now, Ukita was already in the area where the fishing pole had fallen in and was in the process of searching for it with his sleeves rolled up and his hands in the water. Before long, his hand found the pole and he pulled it up. Grabbing hold of the hair ornament, he untied it from the line._

_"You found it!" Akari cheered, her voice coming from somewhere much too close._

_Ukita's fears were confirmed when he looked up to find her and Genji standing in the water, only a few feet away. He should have known that she wouldn't have listened to him. But before he could say anything, he froze when he heard the sound of purposeful footsteps on the bridge. Looking over to Genji, who was staring back at him with wide eyes and a rigid posture, it would seem that the other boy had heard it as well. There wasn't much time. "Get under the bridge," he told Genji as quietly as possible._

_Genji simply nodded and took action. Getting behind Akari with one arm around her waist and his other hand clamped over her mouth, he dragged the unsuspecting princess with him until they were hidden under the shadows of the bridge. "Shhh!!"_

_Akari, who had been struggling against him at first, came to a stop when she, too, heard the approaching footsteps._

_An old man looked over the railing. "Who's there?!"_

_"It's me, Yabuki-san," Ukita replied calmly._

_Genji frowned. Old man Yabuki was the one in charge of housekeeping in the castle. In other words, he was someone with authority. Why couldn't it have been just a random guard?_

_"Ukita?" Yabuki asked, not quite believing his eyes. "What are you doing down there?"_

_"I…" He thought a moment then held up the ornament in his hand. "I dropped Hime-sama's hair pin into the pond."_

_Yabuki looked at the boy, not sure if he believed the story. It wasn't like Ukita to do something like this. What would he be doing wandering around with the princess's hair pin anyway? Not to mention, this seemed a lot more like a certain other boy's antics. Yabuki could have sworn he heard voices. "Ukita…are you __**sure**__ there isn't someone else?" He was old, and therefore wise. He had a pretty good idea what was most likely going on here._

_"Yes, I'm sure," the boy insisted._

_Yabuki sighed. If that was how he wanted it… "Rules are rules, Ukita. Even if you are Kimura-sama's son."_

_"I understand."_

_"Then there will be no dinner for you tonight."_

_"Yes, Yabuki-san," Ukita replied, bowing slightly in acceptance of his punishment._

_With a shake of his head, Yabuki took his leave._

_When it was safe again, Genji stepped back out from under the bridge, not sure what to say, well aware of the fact that Ukita had just taken the fall for him._

_Akari peeked out from behind Genji with a frown of guilt on her face. "Ukita…I'm sorry…" If she hadn't followed him into the pond, she could've helped explain the situation. But if anyone were to see her in the water, it would only get him into even more trouble._

_"Please do not apologize, Hime-sama," Ukita said. "It's not your fault."_

_"Um…" Genji began awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to figure out what he should say. However, the moment Ukita looked his way, all thoughts fled his mind. Even though Ukita's facial expression and body language were the same as usual, his eyes alone were communicating a certain silent rage that made Genji flinch. In his moment of panic, he reached for his human shield…otherwise known as Akari…so he could place her between himself and the other boy as a barrier._

_Akari yelped as she was, once again, being tugged by the oh-so-gentle Genji, this time with his hands grasping onto her upper arms. And as he shoved her out towards Ukita like some kind of evil-repelling charm, she slipped on a moss-covered rock and pitched forward._

_Ukita attempted to catch and steady her. However, with her momentum, coupled with the slippery ground that he was also standing on, it didn't play out quite like he had hoped. Instead, when the oh-so-graceful princess crashed into him, they both simply toppled over, falling into the water with a splash._

_"Eek!" Akari kept her eyes squeezed shut as tightly as possible. Just as she was beginning to wonder why her face wasn't getting wet, a voice broke into her thoughts._

_"He's gonna drown if you keep that up, you know," Genji deadpanned from beside her._

_She immediately opened her eyes and gasped as she realized what had happened. While Ukita wasn't able to break her fall, he did manage to get under her. With his hands holding onto her shoulders, he was pushing her up, keeping her head out of the water. On the flip side, as she was instinctively trying to keep __**herself**__ out of the water, she was desperately pushing downwards with both of her hand, right onto Ukita's chest. With the weight of her body and the force of her hands on him, she basically had the poor boy pinned to the bottom of the pond, completely submerged._

_"Oh my goodness!! Ukita!!" Hastily, she tried to get off of the soon-to-drown boy. That was when she decided that kimonos and water really didn't go well together. Her clothes restricted her movements, and she couldn't even get her knees to spread more than a foot apart. How was she supposed to move around and keep balance?_

_As if to prove her point, as soon as she maneuvered herself off of Ukita, her knee slipped on another rock. "Ah!"_

_She fell forward, just as Ukita was coming up for air with water spitting out of his mouth. _

_It was under such unfavorable conditions when their lips first met._

_The petrified Ukita stared at the princess, whose face was currently glued to his, with widened eyes. Not just his usual 'slightly' widened eyes whenever he experienced something unexpected…but 'seriously' widened eyes._

_The mortified Akari, with matching wide eyes, backed away slowly. After blinking her eyes a few times, she turned her head to the side almost mechanically and spit a stream of water out of her mouth. Her hands flew up to cover her face, too embarrassed and stunned to do anything else._

_Watching the two of them while rooted to his spot, Genji thought that this was probably the funniest thing he had ever seen. Really. It was. And he would have been laughing till his sides split if not for the fact that he suddenly felt rather strongly that he was in mortal danger._

_Akari stood up and turned around, unable to look either one of them in the eye. "Um…I…have to go now," she mumbled shakily. With those parting words, she started heading for shore, stumbling at least five times before she finally made it._

_Genji gulped. With Akari gone, he was as good as dead. Although, looking back to Ukita, he saw that the other boy was still sitting in the water in the same position as though still in shock. "Look…Ukita…I __**swear**__ I didn't do that on purpose."_

_The sound of Genji's voice shook Ukita out of his stupor, and he immediately turned a sharp glare up at the cause of his current misery. "You."_

_Genji backed away a step, holding up both of his hands as though that could somehow keep the hostility that was radiating off of Ukita at bay. "Hey, now…I'm sayin' I'm sorry…"_

_Ukita had never been this frustrated. The pressure building up inside was threatening to overflow. For the first time in his life, he was seriously angry, and he didn't quite know what to do with himself._

_Inspiration struck when his hand closed around a pebble at the bottom of the pond. Without second thought, he picked it up and hurled it at Genji's head._

_"Ow! What the…?!" Genji scowled down at Ukita who was still glaring up at him. He turned his head away with a huff, folding his arms. "Fine. I guess I deserved that."_

_A second pebble collided with Genji's head. "Ow!"_

_Then a third. "Ow! Quit it!"_

_And another. "That hurts, you bastard!!"_

* * *

"Eheheh…" Himeko scratched the tip of her nose as her eyes wandered off to the side somewhere, not really sure what to say. "Pond water, huh?"

By now, the two of them were sitting under a tree, Uriya with his back leaning up against the trunk while Himeko sat facing him.

He closed his eyes with a quiet sigh. "Not exactly what you had in mind, was it?" Though, knowing her, whatever she had in mind most likely wasn't realistic either.

She chuckled. "No, but at least we're getting better, right?!" she said brightly.

He raised a brow in query.

"Our first kiss this life went much more smoothly, don't you think? I mean…we were on solid ground this time!" she explained, holding up a finger for emphasis. "Who knows? Maybe in our next life, we'd have our first kiss in zero gravity! Technology's advancing pretty quickly these days. By the time we're reborn again, people would probably already be colonizing other planets, so the zero gravity thing's not far fetched at all! And then…"

As Himeko continued with her fantastic vision of the distant future, Uriya simply listened, completely unfazed by her bizarre train of thought, marveling at the way she spoke with such casual confidence, without any hint of doubt, about eternity…their eternity.

"Oh no!" she suddenly exclaimed as she remembered something. "There's a meeting with the handicrafts club I'm supposed to be at right now!" She had been so excited about finally reuniting with Uriya again that it had completely slipped her mind. She scrambled to her feet, dusting the grass off her skirt. "I'm sorry, Uriya! I'll see you after school, ok?" With a quick wave, she made a mad dash for the school building.

That happened so quickly, she was gone before Uriya could respond.

"That wasn't the whole story," Ginjo suddenly said from where he was sitting with his back propped up against the other side of the same tree Uriya was leaning against, his amusement evident in the tone of his voice.

Whereas Himeko never even realized that her brother was there, Uriya knew the entire time. "She didn't ask for the whole story," he replied simply. "For someone who complains ceaselessly about every minute hint of affection, you sure do like to linger in wait for it."

Ginjo grinned. "Heh… No way I'm gonna miss seeing you being forced to retell what is probably _still_ the most embarrassing moment for you."

"It was _your_ fault," Uriya pointed out flatly.

"And _that's_ the beauty of it," Ginjo replied, grin widening.

The young Quincy threw a rock, bouncing it off a nearby tree in order to hit his target.

"Ow!" Ginjo's hand shot up to the side of his head where he was hit. "Damn it! I did _not_ miss the rocks!"

Uriya smirked. "I believe the rocks feel otherwise."

Predictably, Ginjo grumbled for a bit, but they soon fell into a companionable silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

* * *

_Ukita lay on his futon, staring dully at the ceiling. His stomach grumbled. While everyone else was enjoying dinner, he had tucked himself away to starve in peace. Of course, he didn't like the sensation of hunger, but at the moment it was a good distraction and helped to keep his mind off of the unfortunate event that happened earlier that day._

_Before he even finished that thought, the biggest reminder of said unfortunate event stepped into his room. "Um…Ukita…?" Akari said meekly, her fingers tugging on her sleeves in a small display of nervousness._

_The boy bolted to his feet, bowing slightly in greeting. "Hime-sama."_

_They stood in a moment of awkward silence, one staring at the floor while the other stared at a wall._

_"I should apologize for what happened today," Ukita finally said._

_"Why?" Akari asked. "I wasn't the one who got pushed into and held under the water." She pouted as she remembered her blunder. "It's all Gen-chan's fault," she finally decided with a huff. "But…never mind that. I need to talk to you about something. Will you listen?" She tilted her head slightly, gauging his response._

_"…of course," he said after a pause, not sure what this was about._

_"Great!" she beamed as she dropped to the floor, sitting on her heels, tugging on his hand to ask him to do the same. When he did, she took a deep breath, hands playing with her sleeves again as she tried to think how best to put it. "I can't sleep."_

_Ukita blinked at that seemingly random statement. "It's still quite early." She shouldn't be trying to sleep at this hour anyway._

_"No, no," she said, waving her hand back and forth a few times. "I mean I know I won't be able to sleep tonight."_

_"And your reason would be…?"_

_She gave him a serious look. "Pond water. I just __**know**__ I'll be thinking about the pond water."_

_Ukita heaved a sigh. Well, at least he understood exactly where she was coming from. "Just…don't think about it." What else could he say?_

_"I can't!" she exclaimed, pulling harder on her sleeves. "I mean…I…I've already been thinking about it all day! And…and…" Her eyes shifted from side to side, looking everywhere except at him as she continued to fidget. "Who knows what's in that water?! It's so murky!"_

_He tried to keep calm as her frantic state quickly escalated._

_"There's koi! So many koi! There must be fish scales!...and fish food!...and…and poop!"_

_He really wished she hadn't said that. It was so unexpected when their lips had met that he had swallowed the water that was still inside his mouth. He had tried so hard to avoid thinking about it. Now he wasn't so hungry anymore._

_"And…and…there's probably moss, and bugs, and mud, and everything! I didn't…I didn't want our first kiss to be like that!" she just about whined towards the end, her cheeks flushing a bright shade of red._

_Ukita blinked, surprised by her words. She spoke as though she had expected that they would be sharing a kiss at some point in life, even implying that there would be more than one. Truly…what was she thinking? What was she expecting him to say? "Hime-sama…there's nothing we can do to change that now." It wasn't like they could turn back time._

_"You can kiss me again," Akari said, leaning forward, looking at him with all seriousness while trying to ignore the blush that was still adorning her cheeks._

_He leaned back slightly as the feeling of unease crawled up his spine. "I…do not understand."_

_"It'll cancel out the other one!" she explained with a bit of desperation as though that made perfect sense._

_He felt rather helpless. Didn't she know that he was her servant? It was hard enough for him to have to remind himself everyday that that was the case without her tempting him with such an innocent face. "Even if I did, it will not change the fact that that was our first—"_

_"No, no, don't say it!" Her hands flew up to cover her ears. "It will! It will! I know it will!" she insisted stubbornly, willing herself to believe._

_He sighed and frowned slightly. It was almost as though she enjoyed pushing him into a corner sometimes. Then again, he was never really good at denying her anything. If anyone were to see, his head would be rolling for sure. "Let's compromise."_

_He pulled her hands away from her ears and cupped her cheeks in his hands. Leaning in, he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead._

_Akari grew quiet as she raised a hand to lightly touch her forehead with her fingers, looking away with a thoughtful frown as though weighing in her mind whether that would be enough to counter the trauma that came with the other kiss._

_"Oh, all right," she said, a bit disappointed, after her deliberation. She didn't understand why he always had to be so difficult, but she supposed that for someone who couldn't even call her by her name, a kiss on the lips was probably asking too much._

_She was obviously still dissatisfied. In hopes of appeasing her, Ukita went back to his futon to retrieve the item he had placed beside his pillow and presented it to the girl. "I hope it's not damaged. I cleaned it."_

_"Mother's hair pin!" she exclaimed brightly as she jumped to her feet. She had been so preoccupied with running away from the koi pond, she had forgotten all about it. Taking it back, she inspected every gem that was hanging from it as she twirled the pin in her hand. "Hmm…I think…it might be missing one…"_

_"Are you certain?" he asked, not looking forward to the prospect of having to go back into the pond. He reached out a hand to inspect the pin once more. It had looked intact when he was cleaning it earlier._

_Seeing his distraction as her opening, Akari quickly closed the small distance between them and, standing up on her toes, gave him a light peck on the lips. She chuckled at the look of surprise on his features. "I lied," she admitted as she stepped back, smiling victoriously as though she had bested him somehow._

_When Ukita regained his wits, he frowned at her. "Hime-sama, please don't do that."_

_"Do what?" she asked innocently._

_He looked away. "Go back on your word."_

_"I didn't. That was a thank you," she explained, "for retrieving something that's very important to me." She laughed as she bounced towards the shoji screen door. "And now I can sleep tonight!" Flashing him another smile, the princess took her leave. "See you in the morning, Ukita!"_

_The boy slumped to the floor, feeling drained. Whereas Akari had walked away completely stress-free, she had left him burdened with thoughts he knew he shouldn't have._

_Before long, another person stepped into the room. Seeing Ukita's worn out state, Genji simply went over and sat beside him without a word. Pulling the three rice balls that he had smuggled in here from under his shirt, he held them out to his friend._

_Blinking at the food that was suddenly shoved under his nose, Ukita looked over at Genji._

_"Hurry up and eat 'em before anybody sees," Genji said._

_After another moment of consideration, Ukita picked up a rice ball and began to eat._

_"It's not like I asked you to do this," Genji mumbled somewhat grumpily, referring to how Ukita was currently being punished in his place. Now there was another thing he owed Ukita, and it seemed his list just kept getting longer every day._

_"If it was you, your punishment would have been no dinner for at least three days," Ukita said flatly._

_Genji twisted his lips. Given his tendency to get into trouble…that probably would have been the case. Ukita also most likely knew he would get off easier, given the fact that he had a spotless record and, not to mention, was the son of a respected hero. "So? That's __**my**__ problem."_

_Ukita reached for the second rice ball. "It would be a bother to have to share my meals with you for that long."_

_Holding his face in his free hand with his elbow propped up on his leg, Genji sighed, wondering why Ukita would just assume that he would have to split his food with him._

_"You eat the last one."_

_Genji looked over at the other boy. "Huh?"_

_"This was a part of your meal, wasn't it?"_

_"Well…yeah…but…" He had already eaten all the other things, like the soup and the tofu, that he couldn't figure out how to hide in his clothes._

_"I don't eat as much as you do," Ukita stated simply._

_Genji looked at the last rice ball and shrugged. "All right." Truth was, he was still kind of hungry. He took a bite and made a face. "I think I might've been holding them for too long," he observed. "It's cuz Akari was here forever. I thought she'd never leave." He continued to eat despite his complaint. He wasn't a picky eater anyway._

_Ukita look at Genji, not really liking the implications of his last statement. "How long have you been standing outside?"_

_Genji turned to him with a mischievous grin. "Long enough to hear her fuss about the fish crap and all." In other words, he had been there practically the whole time. _

_Next thing Genji knew, something hit him on the head. "Ow!" He watched as the pebble bounced off his skull and rolled away on the floor. Then he turned and fixed Ukita with a scowl. "Did ya bring back rocks from the pond?!"_

_Ukita smirked. "Yes. I think they will be useful."_

* * *

A/N: Ah, childhood memories. Gotta love 'em. Heh… I really, REALLY missed writing about Ukita, Genji, and Akari. Especially kids version. So, this chapter was fun to work on in that respect. At the same time, because of all the anticipation that's been building up for their reunion, I'm also kinda nervous about it. Not sure if it's meeting expectations, but as Uriya said to Himeko…"Not exactly what you had in mind, was it?" Haha! Hope you still liked it nonetheless. Please review for moral support. LOL!

Now that they've met up, from here on the chapters will hover around this stage in their lives. To those who have been wondering if this is the end: it's not. I wonder if that's a good thing or a bad thing? Haha!

Show of hands, who else is excited about Ulquiorra's release form?! I'm pretty happy…and relieved. Because of the horn thing on his mask, there was always a possibility it might be some not-very-exciting four legged horned/antlered animal (no offense to these animals). You know…like an ox…or a moose or something. LOL!

Ok, back on topic. You might have noticed that even though this chapter took place during the lunch hour, none of them actually ate anything. Heh… So, I leave you with a little omake about that…

* * *

**Omake**

(After the lunch hour)

With Himeko:

Himeko leaned forward in her desk, her arms hugging around her stomach. She was sooooooo hungry… She had been so busy trying to make Uriya tell the story and then meeting with her club, she never had any lunch.

Her stomach growled loudly, catching everyone's attention.

"Eheheheh…" She punched her gut forcefully to make it shut up.

The students around her backed away, somewhat fearful.

With Uriya:

Sitting in his seat, Uriya took another sip from the bottled water he had bought right before the bell rang. It was a strange sensation, filling up an empty stomach with nothing but water and having it slosh around in there.

He emptied the bottle and set it aside as he continued to take notes. _…At least it's not pond water._

With Ginjo:

Standing at the kitchenette counter, Ginjo took another bite of the sandwich he just made.

Coming in, Shinji watched him with a frown. "Quit making this your hangout when you're playin' hooky. Ichigo's gonna kill me."

Ginjo looked up, unperturbed. "You're out of butter."

Shinji grumbled. "Listen when I'm talking to you, damn it!"

* * *

A/N: XD Thanks for reading!


	20. Blades and Arrows

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I have a new Emo Plant! (Details in A/N.)

* * *

**Twentieth Glimpse: Blades and Arrows**

Uriya studied her features. "Are you tired?"

Himeko was panting, sweat rolling down the sides of her face. The truth? Yes. She was dead tired. But it was difficult for her to admit, especially since he wasn't even breathing hard.

"We should stop," he stated simply.

"You say that, but…" She tried tugging one more time to no avail. "…you still have my foot."

He glanced over to her foot, which he was holding but inches from the side of his head with a firm grip on her ankle, and looked back at her with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "It's just a precaution, in case you should say no."

"Oi, Uriya! What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!" Ichigo boomed with a deep scowl on his face, obviously not liking what he was seeing. The teens were standing in the middle of his yard, and the boy was holding up **his** daughter's leg _far_ too high.

Uriya turned his attention to the orange-haired man on the porch, unperturbed. "Kurosaki Ichigo…must you ask the obvious?"

If possible, Ichigo scowled even deeper. "What was that?" he ground out between his teeth.

"Dad!" Himeko beamed at her father, completely unaware of the invisible steam currently spewing out of his head. "I'm sparring with Uriya! You want a turn?"

"Hime, please don't make the offer for me," the young Quincy said, suppressing a sigh as he let go of her ankle.

"Eh? Oh. Oops. Eheheh…" She scratched her head sheepishly.

"Like I'd fight you," Ichigo ridiculed as he folded his arms. "I don't want people thinking I like beating up on some kid." Even though he fought Ginjo on a constant basis…but that could fall under the category of discipline, so it was all right.

"Uriya, that was fun!" Himeko said. "Let's do it again sometime!" Amongst family and friends, only Tatsuki and her mother would spar with her, so she had been thrilled when Uriya did not decline her request…never mind that she _did_ throw her first kick before giving him any time to think it over.

He blinked. In all honesty, he had not expected her to ask him to spar with her. Not to mention, he had no idea just how quick and agile she was. His side was still smarting from her initial kick and would most likely bruise later. She had shed a lot of the clumsiness that he had remembered, becoming much more physically capable. Though the change was surprising, it was not difficult for him to understand the reasons behind her decisions. He gave her a small smile. "If that is what you wish."

"It is!" She was ecstatic. "My goal is to be able to spar with you one of these days without you having to hold back!"

Ichigo watched the two of them with a frown marring his features. Ever since the day he 'met' Uriya, which was just Monday, the boy had been showing up at his house on a daily basis. Since Uriya went to the same school as his kids, Ichigo could understand them coming home from school together. But today was Saturday. Why did he have to be here even on the weekend? And so early?

In the past, he had wondered why Ulquiorra had made the decision to help him save Orihime despite his loyalty to Aizen. Now, seeing the obvious relationship between Uriya and Himeko, it all became clear. That, however, didn't mean that Ichigo had to like it. And the way the boy so casually called his daughter 'Hime' like he'd been calling her by that name forever was driving Ichigo just a tad bit crazy.

The orange-haired man took a deep breath and let it out, clearing his thoughts. It really wasn't that he _disliked_ the boy. It was just a bit too much for him to take in all at once.

"It's almost like we have another kid now, isn't it?" Rukia suddenly spoke up from beside him.

Ichigo looked at her with wide eyes, too appalled to wonder how she came out of nowhere. "Rukia, _pleeeease_ don't say that. I'm still trying to get used to the fact that he's Ishida's!" At the mentioning of his old friend, Ichigo turned his attention to the young Quincy. "Oi, Uriya. Where'd your father disappear to? That jerk's not returning my calls."

"He's out of town," Uriya replied, disregarding the 'jerk' comment. It wasn't so simple for his father to just up and move the base of his business across the globe. He had to go back and tie up various loose ends.

"Don't tell me you'll be staying here while he's gone," Ichigo said dryly. He didn't need to be seeing the boy any more than he already was…not that he disliked him or anything.

Uriya took a moment to look at Ichigo before turning his eyes away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You might sound more intelligent if you try thinking before you speak, Kurosaki Ichigo." The fact that he was old enough to take care of himself aside, even if he _was_ too young, his proud Quincy father would never leave him in the care of a shinigami…nakama or not.

Before Ichigo could explode, Rukia started laughing, thoroughly amused. "He's Ishida's son, all right. He talks just like him!"

"You don't understand, Rukia," Ichigo said, turning to her as he pointed a finger at Ulquiorr…Uriya. "He's _always_ been like this!" Ichigo had almost forgotten how irksome and tiresome he could get just from talking to the guy. But he didn't dislike him. Really, he didn't. He just needed to get used to him…in a way akin to how people had to get used to the discomfort of wearing braces.

"What're you griping about, old man?" came a groggy voice.

Ichigo and Rukia turned to find Ginjo stepping out of the house, yawning widely. While Ichigo simply grunted without giving a reply, Rukia beamed at the sight of her boy.

"Ginjo!" Seizing the opportunity, she went over and wrapped her arms around him. She could embrace Himeko any time of day, but there was an art to Ginjo hugging…something Rukia had perfected over the years. Mornings, when Ginjo was still half asleep, was the only time she could give him a hug like this without him putting up resistance. "You're up earlier than usual."

The blue-haired youth looked down at the little woman fastened around his waist, still blinking the sleep from his eyes. "How can anyone sleep with all this racket?" He would never be able to comprehend how everyone else in his family could be up and about and so full of energy this early in the day on a Saturday. However, the moment his eyes found Uriya, Ginjo woke up completely, a grin spreading across his face. "Oi, Uriya!" he said, stepping out of Rukia's embrace to go meet the other boy with purposeful strides. "I know what we should do today."

Seeing that wide grin on his face and that overly eager look in his eyes, Uriya already knew exactly what Ginjo had in mind. He heaved a sigh. "Very well." He had to admit, he had been thinking about it as well.

"So…" Ginjo began, still grinning. "Urahara's or Shinji's?"

In the face of Ginjo's almost childish excitement, Uriya couldn't help but smirk.

* * *

As soon as Kensei closed up shop, he opened the floor hatch and jumped into the underground training room. The rest of the vizards were already there, piled up on a big boulder like some makeshift bleachers with chips and popcorn in their hands. It was hardly closing time, but the entire gang had gathered down here for the show. After all, it wasn't everyday they got to see a match between anyone but themselves in this place.

"Damn it!" Kensei swore under his breath when he saw that the match had already started without him. Taking a seat next to Rose, he asked, "What did I miss?"

Rose spared him a sideward glance. "Well…Ginjo's been waving his zanpakutou, and Quincy Boy's been shooting his arrows," he drawled in his typical lackluster tone.

Kensei's brow twitched. "Obviously."

"What I don't get is," Rose continued thoughtfully, either unaware of or unconcerned about Kensei's dissatisfaction with his recap, "aren't Qunicies supposed to be archers?"

"Last I heard."

"Well, Quincy Boy started off keeping Ginjo back with his arrows. But once Ginjo broke through that barrier and moved in, he pulled a blade out of nowhere and started using that instead."

Kensei raised a skeptical brow. "That so?" Sure enough, looking out to the match raging at a safe distance away, he saw Uriya parrying Ginjo's blows with a glowing white blade.

"It's not a sword," Himeko supplied helpfully. Per Ginjo's instructions, she was sitting at the edge farthest away from Shinji. "Seele Schneider's an arrow! Cool, huh?!" She had heard about it from Uriya, but this was the first time she'd actually seen it.

Love looked over at the girl. "So, who are you rooting for, Himeko-chan?" It was obvious who the vizards were rooting for. It would be a bit sad if the 'away team' didn't at least have one fan.

Himeko raised her brows at the question. "Eh? I'm rooting for both of them, of course!" To her, it really didn't matter who the victor would be. She was sure that this would be a recurring activity anyway, since she knew sparring had been Ukita and Genji's favorite pastime. She just hoped that they wouldn't mutilate each other too much, especially since it was no secret that her brother was reckless. It never ceased to baffle her to see him come home all cut up and bloody _just_ from training.

On the battlefield, Ginjo was on the defense, feeling the pressure from Seele Schneider. It may look like just a sword from afar, but up close, he could see that it was actually more like a chainsaw. The reishi in the blade vibrated at such a high frequency, a lesser shinigami's zanpakutou would most likely be cut in half upon contact. "Damn it!" Ginjo managed to say between blocks. "What kind of Quincy fights with a sword?!"

"The kind that remembers himself to be an above average swordsman in a previous life," Uriya replied without missing a beat.

Ginjo grumbled. _Screw this!_ He jumped back and held onto the hilt of his zanpakutou with both hands. "Grind…Pantera!"

At his command, Pantera split into two, becoming a pair of hook swords in a white so pure they rivaled that of Sode no Shirayuki's. Needless to say, the first time Rukia laid eyes on them, she gloated ceaselessly in front of Ichigo for a solid month about how their son's zanpakutou was more like hers than his.

The blue-haired youth grinned. "Looks like I've got the advantage now, don't it?" He was now holding two blades after all.

Uriya studied the twin hooks in Ginjo's hands impassively. "Nonsense." He gracefully pulled out a second Seele Schneider, the glowing blue arrow coming to life in his hand.

Instead of being upset, Ginjo was utterly delighted. In the past, he had always been able to count on Ukita for a good fight, and it seemed like Uriya would be no different in that regard.

As the two moved in for round two, Shinji turned to the pink-haired vizard. "Hachi, ya got the barrier up, right?" Since the fight was stepping up a bit, he didn't want to end up with some schmuck from Soul Society knocking on his door, wondering what the heck was going on.

"Of course," Hachi replied with practiced patience.

"Blueberry-tan's going to win, isn't he?" Mashiro asked no one in particular. "Mashiro wants him to win!"

"He better, if he knows what's good for him," Hiyori drawled. "I'll kick his ass if he loses to some Quincy."

Just as there was an ebb and flow to the tide, there was an ebb and flow to battle, and Uriya now found himself being pushed back by Ginjo's aggressive attacks, white hooks coming at him in rapid successions like the claws of a wild cat. As he escaped via hirenkyaku, the young Quincy retrieved a gintou from his shirt pocket. Throwing the silver tube at his opponent, Uriya recited the incantation. "Tilt the goblet to the west. Wolke!"

Ginjo was swallowed by the blast that followed. However, as the smoke cleared, it was revealed that, while more than just a bit singed, he was very much still standing. Uriya narrowed his eyes, not because Ginjo was on his feet, but because of the stance that he was taking. With both blades held loosely and unthreateningly in his left hand, Ginjo had his right arm held straight out in front of him, hand folded into a fist. His lips were moving as though he was speaking, yet, his voice could not be heard. Uriya didn't have much time to muse before Ginjo called out his attack. "Hadou Negative Seventy-three: Graying Blitz!"

Uriya's eyes widened slightly as a small shaft of light appeared from within Ginjo's closed palm. "Kidou?" He was genuinely surprised. With Ginjo's personality, Uriya would have never thought that he would put the time and effort into incantation memorization.

Wasting no time, Ginjo pulled his arm back and threw his glowing dagger at his opponent. It hit its mark and exploded with a loud thunderclap.

Love whistled. "Yeah, that was definitely blitzier than Quincy Boy's blitz."

At this point, Shinji shot up to his feet, more than just a little peeved. "Hey, what the heck's with the mumbling just now?! You gotta say it out loud!! Like ya mean it!"

Ginjo flashed the blonde a glare. "Like _hell_ I'm gonna say that embarrassing shit out loud!"

"What?!" Shinji exclaimed with dismay. "You break my heart, Ginjo! You break my heart!"

"Shut up or I'll break your neck, ya freak!" the boy hollered back.

"Shinji, calm down, man," Love tried to soothe. "At least he used it."

Shinji, however, continued to hyperventilate. "You ingrate!!"

Attempting to tune out the fuss coming from his screwball shishou, Ginjo used shunpo to speed himself over to the cloud of dust so he could deal the finishing blow before Uriya had the chance to recover. So intent on his goal, he almost didn't see it coming when the raven-haired teen sprung out of the cloud, rushing towards him with his left fist extended.

Luckily for Ginjo, he caught Uriya's wrist just before the fist connected with his face. Despite the rush of battle, something caught his eye. He had never noticed it before, but…now that the object was right in front of him, it was rather difficult to miss: a simple silver ring on Uriya's middle finger. The young vizard quirked a disbelieving brow. "What, have you gone girly this lifetime or something?"

"Ginjo," Uriya said, his expression unreadable, the comment ignored. "Don't blink." Twisting his arm against Ginjo's grip, he opened his now upturned palm.

Ginjo's eyes widened at what he saw. The ring that he had thought was nothing more than a simple band just a second ago wasn't looking quite so simple anymore. Though small, there was a pentacle on the underside. _It's a frickin' Quincy Cross!_

Uriya smirked at the look of realization on Ginjo's face. Just like his father, he wore a Quincy Cross around his right wrist; the artifact for channeling his primary bow. The ring on his left hand, an item given to him by his grandfather when he was younger, was the tool he used to summon his secondary weapon. In a split second, a small bow no more than two feet in length materialized in his left hand.

"Shit!" Swearing was just about all Ginjo had time to do before Uriya fired an arrow one-handed at point blank, right into his shoulder. The force of the impact sent him sailing backwards until, eventually, his body skidded to a stop. Still lying on the ground, he reached a hand up to cover the intense stinging sensation in his shoulder, inhaling sharply to the pain. "…damn Quincy arrow…"

The fight was over.

Up on the makeshift bleachers, Risa frowned. "That was pathetic," she noted dryly. "I can't believe he lost like that."

Hiyori cracked her knuckles. "That's it! We're locking that brat down here for special training tonight!"

"Easy, Hiyori. Ginjo wasn't really fighting seriously," Love said in the boy's defense. "You know he can do more damage if he wanted to." He didn't even use his mask.

"That may be true," Shinji chimed in, "but Quincy Boy wasn't exactly pulling out all the stops either." He grinned as he considered both boys, noting that neither of them should be taken too lightly.

Back in the field, Uriya had by now made his way over to Ginjo, hands in his pockets.

Ginjo sat up, eyes glaring. "I don't wanna hear it," he said grudgingly. He already knew what his own shortcomings were. He didn't need Uriya to point them out to him…_again_.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Uriya replied in perfect monotone as he carefully kept the amusement from showing on his features.

"Uriya! Gin-chan!" Himeko called out as she ran over to them, immediately throwing her regenerative shield over the both of them. She flashed them a huge smile. "That was amazing! You guys got through it with just cuts and scrapes!" There were no severed limbs, gushing blood, or anything!

"Hey princess, do you not see this gaping hole?!" Ginjo roared as he pointed to his injured shoulder. "He almost killed me!"

"I had a feeling you wouldn't die so easily," Uriya retorted, unconcerned. When Ginjo responded with a scowl, he added, "And I suppose you thought your kidou spell was completely harmless." The bulk of his shirt had all but been reduced to dust by that attack, and the flesh on his now exposed left ribs was still raw from the burn.

Ginjo eyed the damage he had dealt and grinned. "Hey, you're the one who tried to fry me first. I _always_ pay my debts."

Himeko chuckled to herself. Though the two of them were arguing, the atmosphere was comfortable. Before long, she had rejected their injuries. "There! Good as new!" she announced joyfully as Ayame and Shunou returned to her.

Ginjo stood up, scratching his neck as he contemplated. "You know…it's still pretty early."

To Uriya, Ginjo was all too easy to read. "Best two out of three, then."

The blue-haired teen grinned. "Heh… That's exactly what I had in mind."

With that said, they dove right back into it.

"Again?!" Himeko exclaimed, somewhat shocked. "So soon?!" But those two were already so engrossed with their rematch that they probably didn't even hear her. She heaved a sigh. Somehow…she had a feeling that she would be using her powers _much_ more frequently from now on.

* * *

A/N: Believe it or not, I'd actually spent a LOT of time trying to decide on Ginjo's shikai. Originally, I was dead set on a pair of gauntlets (claw-like blades worn on the hands…sort of Wolverine-ish), because it was such an obvious match. But it was a bit _too_ obvious. So, after going through a whole string of other options, I settled on the hook swords. Like the name suggests, the tip of the blade ends in a hook. There's a crescent shaped blade on the guard, and the bottom of the hilt is sharp like a dagger. If you know Avatar: The Last Airbender, they're the weapons Jet uses. They're sometimes called Tiger Hooks, so…they have some feline qualities to them, right? LOL!

Since Uriya lost his zanpakutou, he also lost all the power upgrade features that come with it. Therefore, to make up for that, I'm giving him more _stuff_. Haha! It would look kinda retarded if he wore a bracelet with a Quincy Cross on both wrists, so I made the artifact for his secondary bow a ring instead. It looks like he's wearing it upside down, but if you think about its function, it makes sense for the pentacle to be on the palm side of his hand. It's cooler that way anyway. If he wore it like a normal ring, it really _would_ seem girly and fussy. Haha!

Hmm…is it obvious that I think too much about this power stuff? LOL!

And now… **Come meet my Emo Plant, Ulqui-chan!**

**Here!:** http:// murasaki-no-sora. deviantart. com/art/Ulqui-chan-the-Emo-Plant-115020164 (take out the spaces)

**And Here!:** http:// murasaki-no-sora. deviantart. com/art/Ulqui-chan-Close-up-115020869 (take out the spaces)

Just…humor me, and go! Then come back and tell me how adorable he is! XD He's my new baby. He lives in my head, and I'm feeling ultimate and invincible love for him right now. LOL!

That be all for now. Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	21. Building Resistance

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I would really, _really_ like Kubo to tell me that he did NOT, and will never plan to, kill off Ulquiorra!!! DX (keeping fingers crossed…)

* * *

**Twenty-First Glimpse: Building Resistance**

Uriya dragged his feet to his room and, for the first time in his life, flopped onto his bed, face first. Ishida Uriya didn't _do_ 'flopping'. However, just this once, he would make an exception. After all, having just puked his guts out for the third time in one day, upholding his dignity…especially when there was no one around to watch him…definitely wasn't high on his list of priorities.

He blinked dully and weakly as he waited for his stomach to settle, sighing mentally since he didn't even have the strength to do it physically. It was bound to happen, he knew. He could only make up so many excuses before it would become obvious that he was making up excuses. That was why, after weighing his options, he had accepted her proposal last night.

He let Himeko cook dinner for him.

His stomach made another involuntary lurch just from the memory.

Since his father was out of town again, she had invited him over to her house for dinner. He didn't see any harm in it at the time. The original plan was to go and eat with the family, her mother being the cook. But as fate would have it…or perhaps bad luck…Ginjo had decided to extend his training session with Shinji and therefore didn't come home, Rukia had to make an unexpected trip to Soul Society for some Kuchiki family business and was gone before they even arrived, and Ichigo had night shift at the hospital and had not even planned to be home for dinner to begin with.

In the blink of an eye, the supposed family dinner had dwindled down to just dinner for two. Uriya realized that for most people, it was probably a good thing. But for him…it was a slightly different story. In hind sight, he really shouldn't have taken up on Himeko's innocent and seemingly harmless offer because, by the time they had found out that it was going to be just the two of them and she had suggested that she do the cooking, it was already too late for him to back out. There wasn't an excuse plausible enough that would have allowed him to turn right back around and walk out of that house. His fate had been sealed.

The young Quincy decided that there was one thing he rather disliked about modern living: the form in which money came in. Nowadays, currency came in tiny foldable pieces of paper that would fit neatly into a small wallet. Unlike feudal times, there was no longer a need for coin sacks…which meant that there had been nowhere for him to put the food except in his mouth.

As the parade of mismatched flavors marched across his taste buds and down his throat, it had elicited memories of past experiences he would much rather forget, the imageries coming back in bright vivid colors. Either that or he had been seeing stars from the spices he had ingested. But no matter how disagreeable the taste might have been, nothing could compare to the string of regurgitations that followed. The only good thing was that he had at least been able to hold it in until he got home. Nevertheless, the fact that he was _still_ throwing up now that it was already the next day…it was really saying something about the potency of the food.

Putting all thoughts of eating out of his mind, Uriya closed his eyes to let sleep help him recover. Then, just as he was about to fall asleep, the doorbell rang…again and again.

Unable to ignore it, he pulled himself back up to his feet and went downstairs. When he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of long, flowing, bright orange hair.

"Uriya!" Himeko said, a look of worry on her face. "How are—"

_BANG!_

She froze…then blinked her wide eyes. The door that had yet to open fully had somehow closed shut again. "Um…Uriya?"

On the other side, Uriya was staring at the door with mortification about what had just occurred.

He had slammed the door in her face…

**He** had slammed the door in **her** face.

Well, technically…it wasn't so much the sight of Himeko as it was the sight of the object in her hands that had induced that particular unexpected reflexive response.

She was holding a pot.

While a piece of cookware in and of itself was generally unthreatening, in her hands it became ominous. Uriya wasn't sure he wanted to find out what was in it. All he knew was that it was still far too soon for his stomach to be able to endure whatever horror might be awaiting him inside that pot.

"Uriya?" Himeko called out again with concern. "Is everything all right?" He stayed home sick from school today, so the minute she got home from school she made soup to bring over to him. She decided to make chicken noodle soup, since that seemed to be a good sick food. She added plenty of wasabi, just in case he was suffering from a really bad cold or flu. It would definitely help clear up any congestion. He probably needed an extra boost of vitamin C, so she chopped up and threw in some grapefruit, strawberries, and pineapples. And just to help him cheer up, she mixed in a _big_ spoonful of red bean paste…because that was something that always helped make her happy.

In any case, she was beginning to grow more worried at his lack of response. He didn't pass out or anything, did he? "Uriya?"

He raised a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, still unable to believe what he had just done. "Please wait, Hime. I'm…not properly dressed." Was that believable? Probably not.

"Um…Ok," she called out, a bit confused. Was he naked? He didn't look naked… Was she seeing things? Or maybe he didn't want her to see him in his sleepwear? But then that begged the question of what was on his sleepwear. Prints of Peeka the penguin maybe? That would be kind of cute…

While Himeko entertained herself with that train of thought, Uriya…who was in fact wearing just a simple white T-shirt that, once upon a time, had an Ishida Uryuu hand sewn Quincy Cross on it before Uriya had personally removed it…leaned his back tiredly against the door and slid down to the floor as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

* * *

"Oi, Blue!" Hiyori hollered as she stomped her way across the training room with a ringing cell phone gripped in her hand. "Make this thing shut up!" She threw the offending object at the boy.

Ginjo, who was in the middle of sparring with Shinji, caught the phone and answered it. He wasn't too happy about being interrupted, but it was better than having to listen to Hiyori gripe. "Yeah?"

"Lunch for a week."

"Huh?" Ginjo frowned at that seemingly random statement.

"Lunch for a week," Uriya repeated, voice still as impassive as ever. "I'll buy."

It took Ginjo a minute to grasp on to what was going on. When he did, he simply could not stop the grin from spreading on his face. After all, it was _exceedingly_ rare for Uriya to come to him with a request. "I can eat a lot, you know."

"That fact has been noted centuries ago," Uriya returned dryly.

Ginjo shrugged. "Just making sure we understand each other. So…" he said, unable to suppress his grin. "What can I do you for?"

Uriya got straight to the point. "Hime is outside my door."

Ginjo quirked a brow. "Yeah. So?"

"With food."

"Oh." He could definitely understand where the desperation was coming from now, especially since Himeko had told him about how she had cooked dinner last night. Boy, was he glad he hadn't gone home for it. "Heh… All right. I got it." He hung up and turned to his shishou. "Shinji. Do me a favor, and I'll let Himeko touch you. Good deal?"

Shinji frowned. "Heh?" Just from listening to Ginjo's half of the phone conversation, it didn't really shed much light on what the heck was going on.

"Once in a lifetime chance," Ginjo enticed distractedly as he began punching in numbers to make another call.

"What's this favor?" Shinji asked skeptically. Normally, Ginjo would ram a foot into his face just for standing within a three foot radius of his sister. Something seemed fishy about this.

"You'll see," Ginjo said offhandedly as the person at the other end of the line picked up. "Oi, princess. I need ya to come to Shinji's. It's an emergency."

"Eh?! What happened?"

"I messed him up by mistake. He's in some serious pain. Listen." He shoved the phone in front of Shinji's face.

Caught off guard, Shinji simply stared at the phone. _What, am I supposed ta scream or something?_ He didn't have to wonder long though. Before he knew it Ginjo had jabbed the tip of Pantera straight into his ribs. "GAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"

The blue-haired youth brought the phone back to his ears. "I'm counting on ya. Hurry." With that said, he hung up. Then he crouched down in front of Shinji who had by now fallen to his knees with both hands on his freshly opened wound. "So, like I said," he continued, speaking far too calmly and evenly for someone in the face of a bleeding man. "She'll touch you, but you can't touch her, got it?"

Shinji shot the boy death glares. He had been stabbed when he hadn't even agreed to anything! Grabbing a fistful of Ginjo's shirt, he tugged the boy towards him. "When this is over, your ass is mine," he hissed threateningly.

Ginjo grinned triumphantly. He had just gotten himself a week's worth of all-you-can-eat lunches plus what looked like could be a death match with Shinji all in a matter of minutes. This was turning out to be a pretty darn good day.

* * *

"Gin-chan? Gin-chan?!" Himeko called into her phone with urgency, but her brother had already hung up. After hearing that bloodcurdling scream, she was feeling frantic now. What should she do?!

She rang the doorbell a couple of times again. _That's right! He's probably still up in his room changing!_

She backed away from the house and looked up, projecting her voice. "Uriya! I need to go now! I left you some soup at the door! I'm sorry, I'll call you later! Bye!" Then she sprinted off in a hurry.

Still sitting on the floor, Uriya leaned his head back against the front door and stared up at the ceiling with a sigh. Moments later, his phone rang. He answered, but did not speak first.

"Is she gone?" came Ginjo's voice, tinted with too much amusement for his liking.

"Yes."

"Just remember," Ginjo said, trying hard not to laugh outright, "you're the one who signed up for an eternity of this."

Uriya hung up and resumed staring dully at the ceiling. It wasn't that he hadn't been mentally prepared to face this situation. His body simply went into shock. He just needed to allow it time to build up the necessary resistance. In the mean time, however, it would probably be wise for him to start stocking up on various stomach medicines…

* * *

A/N: The boy is damn near invincible in battle, but she sure can bring him to his knees without even trying…or knowing. LOL! Ah, the things he'd endure for love. Keep at it, Uriya. One of these days, your stomach lining will be thick enough to withstand anything…hopefully. Haha!

If you recall, Peeka the penguin only exists in Himeko's dreams. So, there's no way he'd be wearing prints of it…

There's a lot of love between Ginjo and Shinji. I swear. Haha! The way Ginjo sees it…he can stab Shinji, but if anyone else (excluding Hiyori) tries, they gotta answer to him. XD

Side note about currency in feudal Japan…they did have paper currency called hansatsu. But from what I gather, it's supplementary to coinage and, since there wasn't a universal system, it wasn't always accepted. I'm not a historian, so…I'm not too sure on details. But I just wanted to say that yes, it did exist, since in this chapter it kinda sounds like there were only coins. Yeah, I know that in the grand scheme of things here it really doesn't matter. It's fiction anyway. Why do I obsess over these things? Heh...

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	22. Episodes

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I would like a reset button (or maybe glue) so I can bring Ulqui back to life… DX

* * *

**Twenty-Second Glimpse: Episodes**

Always scoring at the top of her class, Miyamoto Michiko was arguably one of the smartest students to have ever walked the halls of Karakura High. With long brunette locks sensibly pulled back into a braid, she wore a pair of frameless glasses to complete the intelligent look. She had no interest in cosmetics for she felt her time was better spent reading a book than worrying excessively about her appearance. Though she never considered herself attractive, the boys at school would beg to differ. Many have tried to ask her out; however, she had consistently turned them all down. With her eyes focused on her shining future, she simply did not have the time to bother with high school puppy love romances. That, in a nutshell, was who Miyamoto Michiko was.

Aside from her higher than average IQ, Michiko was just a normal girl living an ordinary life. The only thing, or rather the only person, in her life that made things somewhat out of the ordinary for her was her classmate with the obnoxious blue hair: Kurosaki Ginjo.

Were they friends? No. They hardly even speak to one another. However, for reasons unknown, they had been sitting next to each other in class for the past two years. No matter how many times seat assignments rotated, Michiko would _always_ end up getting a seat next to Ginjo…usually at the back of the room. She suspected that it might have something to do with the fact that she was the only person who never went to the teacher to either cry, complain, or beg for a reassignment when she was first assigned a seat beside the infamous Blue-Haired Devil. The faculty must have taken it as a sign of true guts on her part and, just to make their own lives easier, awarded her a permanent position beside Ginjo.

In all honesty, she really didn't understand why everyone was so deathly afraid of the Kurosaki boy. All one needed to do was to understand how he worked, and Michiko had long since figured him out. It was indeed true that he wore a fear-provoking scowl on a near constant basis, was terrifyingly strong, and had no regard for authority. But contrary to rumors, he wouldn't attack unless provoked. Touch his sister, however…and it was the equivalent of signing one's own death sentence. Therefore, as long as you left him alone and didn't mess with or hit on his sister, he was pretty much harmless. Most people thought that Asano Hiroyuki was an idiot for hanging around Ginjo, but the truth was…while Hiro was an idiot in general…in this particular case, he was probably the most perceptive of them all.

In some ways, sitting next to Ginjo was like a blessing in disguise. Since everyone was afraid to come near him, he was like a magic charm that helped her ward off the boys who were interested in pursuing her, allowing her to enjoy a bit of peace. Now, if only the guy wouldn't skip class as much as he did, she'd be able to enjoy even more peace. Well…to a certain extent. After all, there _were_ drawbacks to being this close to him.

Though Michiko would like to be able to boast that she was not afraid of the Blue-Haired Devil _at all_, that simply wasn't the case. While it was true about ninety percent of the time, there were times when he scared even her. Times when he wasn't quite himself. Times when his behavioral pattern did a one-eighty. Times when he was having one of what had become widely whispered among the student body as his "episodes". Times like…right now.

Michiko had a feeling that something wasn't quite right when, out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Ginjo's head was turned her way. The _normal_ Ginjo would never pay her any mind. She instantly regretted it when she turned to confirm her suspicions.

Ginjo was leaning against his desk with his head propped up on one arm, his full attention on her with a smile of content on his lips and a look of…dare she think it?...admiration in his eyes. When he noticed her looking back at him, he winked.

When the Blue-Haired Devil started winking, it was definitely a bad sign.

Michiko returned to note taking with a start as she tried to suppress the cold chill running down her spine. No matter how many times something like this had happened, it never failed to give her goose bumps. For someone who was usually such a fearsome beast to put on such a pathetic and perverted display…it wasn't just creepy, it was downright wrong.

She sometimes actually felt sorry for the guy. Multiple personalities must be difficult to deal with. Of course, he never _said_ that he had multiple personality disorder and nobody was crazy enough to ask, but it was pretty obvious to her that that was the case.

"Hey, Michiko-chan," Ginjo whispered.

She ignored him.

"Michiko-chan!" he whispered louder.

Worried that they might catch the teacher's attention, she turned to him with a questioning look, causing him to grin widely…almost stupidly.

"Let's have lunch together. My treat?"

She knew it. But knowing didn't make it any easier for her to get out of it. "I can't. I…have some studying to do."

"That's perfect! So do I! I don't really understand this stuff," he said, gesturing vaguely towards the ignored textbook on his desk. "Could you tutor me during lunch? Please?"

"If I spend my time tutoring you, I won't have time for my own studies," she reasoned.

"Don't say that, Michiko-chan!" Ginjo whined with a pout.

She tried not to shudder.

"You're the smartest girl I know, with beauty beyond compare," he said as he leaned closer across the aisle, causing her to lean back. "I'm sure I'll learn if you teach me."

Michiko sighed internally. The problem with Ginjo's secondary personality…which she had nicknamed 'Kinjo' in her mind…was that he was _extremely_ persistent. Either that or he simply didn't understand when he was being rejected. Hadn't they been doing this dance long enough for him to realize what her answer would be? Had it been some other guy, she probably would have told him off by now. But this wasn't just anybody. Even though his dominant side was 'sleeping', he was still the Blue-Haired Devil, and she was _not_ about to risk incurring his wrath no matter what the circumstance may be.

The lunch bell rang, and the students began to disperse.

Before she could even begin to make further excuses, Ginjo was already down on one knee, kneeling beside her desk with her hand lightly grasped in his. "So, what do you say, my lovely Michiko-chan? Have lunch with me?" He bent his head down to kiss the back of her hand.

Michiko gasped and retracted her limb in the nick of time, silently commending herself for not shrieking. When he was like this, he scared her. He really did. Her face flushed as her heart pounded against her chest. When he started reaching for her face instead, completely undeterred and still smiling to boot, she became so flustered that all she could do was consent in hopes that he would back away and get the heck out of her personal bubble. "All right, all right! I'll go! Just…just don't do that again…"

"Really?! Yippee!" Ginjo exclaimed with glee as he clasped his hands together and jumped into the air.

His lame pose aside, she could have _sworn_ he shot up much higher than humanly possible. Did his hair actually graze the ceiling just now? She must have been seeing things.

"Thank you, Michiko-chan!" He spread his arms, ready to sweep her up into an embrace.

Her eyes widened. _Oh no!_ "Eek!" She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing there was no escape this time. She waited, but…nothing happened.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Ginjo stepping back away from her in a rather strange way…almost as though he was being tugged or pulled by something from behind even though nothing was there. He turned around to look behind him then immediately whipped his head back to face her again, his eyes suddenly wide.

Michiko watched as his face turned pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead right before her eyes. "Kurosaki…are you OK?" she asked hesitantly.

"Um…yeah. Heheh…" he said nervously. "But I'm gonna have to take a rain check. Later, Michiko-chan!" With that, he sped out of the classroom so fast it was like the devil himself was at his tail.

She was left standing dumbfounded in the now empty classroom. Even as she tried to make sense of what had just occurred, she could hear him hollering nonsense as he bolted down the hallway.

"I didn't do anything, I swear!!"

* * *

When the lunch hour was over and Michiko returned to her seat, Ginjo was already there lounging in his chair. She could sense that he was eyeing her, but she kept her eyes averted, hoping to all the gods above that it indeed was Ginjo and not Kinjo who was sitting beside her.

After a while, he finally spoke up. "Oi, Miyamoto."

She paused, blinked, then turned her head to look at him. He had that slightly condescending look in his eyes, he was wearing a scowl that said he was ready to rumble, and he had just called her by her surname. She gave a sigh of relief. _He's back._ "What is it, Kurosaki?"

"Were we…" He looked off to the side, somewhat annoyed. "Were we talking about anything earlier?"

She raised her brows slightly at the question. Then she realized he must be experiencing the memory lapse that came with having multiple personality disorder and was trying to get her to fill in the blanks for him. She had no idea how much he knew about his other side, but what she _did_ know was that she was dealing with the fearsome beast again. Therefore, it was not in her best interest to say anything that might embarrass or agitate him. So, with a hint of a smile she replied, "No… Nothing at all."

He studied her skeptically, and she thought maybe he didn't believe her. However, he didn't push the subject any further, and so they left it at that.

* * *

It was the last class of the day: math. Michiko took notes diligently while, in the desk beside her, Ginjo slept behind a propped up textbook as per usual. Sparing him a glance, she couldn't help but wonder how he ever managed to _not_ fail math when he always took it unconscious.

The minute she thought that, the Kurosaki boy opened his eyes, causing her to jump. Suddenly sitting up, he turned his head and looked intently out the windows.

Frowning slightly, Michiko followed his line of sight to see what exactly it was that had his attention. _…nothing._

By the time she turned her eyes back to him, Ginjo seemed to have already lost interest in whatever was outside and was popping candy into his mouth instead. Trying not to let his senseless actions take up too much of her time, she was about to resume note taking when she caught sight of his body suddenly jerking back unnaturally before slumping forward, remaining stationary.

That worried her somewhat, and nobody else seemed to have noticed since they were sitting at the very back. Twisting her lips, she got up her courage and poked his arm lightly with her pen.

No response.

"Hey, Kurosaki," she whispered as she poked harder.

Still no response.

She got up from her seat. Trying to ignore the strange looks the other students were now giving her, she stepped over to Ginjo's side and shook his shoulder. "Hey, Kurosaki," she said again as quietly as possible. "You didn't choke, did you?" Could he be stupid enough to choke on candy? But if she thought about it, that weird jerking wasn't really a choking or suffocating reaction…

At this point, Ginjo finally turned his head up and looked at her. If she didn't know any better, she'd say it looked like he had tears in his eyes. Happy tears, to be precise. "Michiko-chan," he practically sighed, "you really _do_ care!"

She stood rooted, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. _Kinjo?! What's he doing back again so soon?!!_

"If I really were choking," Ginjo continued, "would you give me CPR?" Placing a hand on either side of her face, he pulled her down towards him.

This time, Michiko really did scream, and she did it at the top of her lungs. "KYAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" She jumped back as her hand reached for the textbook on her desk. With both arms and a full body swing, she smashed that thing against the side of his head with force worthy of a pro baseball player.

Ginjo fell back, tumbling ungracefully out of his chair.

Michiko dropped the book and covered her mouth with her hands, fear and panic taking over as her brain finally registered what she had just done. _Oh my god…Ginjo, __**please**__ don't wake up now... Not now, not now, not now! I beg you!!_

The blue-haired teen eventually climbed back to his feet, one hand on his head to stop the spinning, the other hand rubbing his cheek where he'd just been smacked. He winced slightly as he mumbled something about having just earned himself a ride through the washer. "That's cruel, Michiko-chan," he said, looking at her like a puppy that'd just been kicked.

Her knees gave out and she sank to the floor as relief washed over her. It was still Kinjo. She would live to see the sun rise again.

Of course, the entire class had witnessed what had just taken place, including the teacher. Therefore… "KUROSAKI!! MIYAMOTO!! IN THE HALLWAY! NOW!"

* * *

Standing out in the hallway, Michiko rubbed her temples with her hand, trying to get a grip on her depression and frustration. As a model student, this was the first time she'd ever been punished at school for anything. After the string of events today, she was beginning to wonder if the drawbacks of her proximity to Ginjo actually outweighed the perks.

"Michiko-chan… Michiko-chan…"

Yes, even the way he talked was irking her now. She would take Ginjo's gruff and disrespectful tone over Kinjo's whiney and annoying one any day. "What?" she asked tiredly without looking at him, still massaging her temples.

"I'm sorry…I'm _really_ sorry…" He clasped his palms together in front of his face. "Please forgive me! Let me make it up to you! How can I make it up to you?"

She threw him a glare then heaved a helpless sigh, slumping her shoulders. "Just tell me where your switch is so I can turn this side of you off."

* * *

A/N: So, I wanted to do a chapter about the Ginjo/Kon experience exclusively from the point of view of someone who knows nothing about shinigami and the afterlife, and this is how it turned out. It's actually more challenging than I had first anticipated it would be…in terms of both trying to keep it clear as well as interesting. Let me know what you think.

It's hard for me to decide who I should feel more sorry for. Michiko for having to stave off Kon's advances while worrying about accidentally incurring Ginjo's wrath, all the while being confused by what's actually going on? Ginjo for having his kickass image tarnished by Kon? Or Kon for being so bad with girls that he probably wouldn't get a date even if he did have a permanent body of his own? LOL!

Michiko means 'beautiful wise child'. I thought that went well with her character. After that, I picked a surname that helped it roll of the tongue with a nice rhythm. And she dubbed Kon as Kinjo just because 'kin' (gold) is the opposite of 'gin' (silver). Heh…

As for Ulquiorra…I'm still in grieving mode. DX This is the first time a character I love _this_ much has died on me…and this early in the game, too. My only small consolation is that his life ended with his dignity intact. He made an elegant exit. But there will be no more "hmm, I wonder when Ulqui will show up again?" No more…

(cries rivers again)

Well…he lives here…

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated!


	23. Messages

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I would like a pair of sexy pure white hook swords. Mmm…

* * *

**Twenty-Third Glimpse: Messages**

(4:03 PM on a Tuesday)

Sitting in his office, tapping his pen restlessly, Uryuu stared at the cell phone lying innocently on his desk as he debated whether to call his son or not. He had spoken to Uriya earlier. He was at the Kurosakis' again and, according to the boy, they were studying.

Uryuu twisted his lips as he pondered on the current situation. Kurosaki's boy…no matter how he looked at that kid, he didn't look like the studying type. Therefore, it must mean that Uriya and Himeko were the only ones who were involved in this studying business. Right. And since silence would be necessary to optimize the brain's intake of information, and Ginjo was naturally loud, it only made sense that they would take their studying somewhere away from him. In fact, it made perfect sense for them to take their studying away from all other occupants of the house. Somewhere closed off. Somewhere where they won't be interrupted. Somewhere like her room…where they'll be alone…just the two of them…

The Quincy dropped his head to the desk, heaving a heavy sigh. He should stop over thinking this. They were both good kids. Intelligent. They won't do anything stupid. Especially Uriya. The boy always thought things through logically, and he was wise beyond his years. He shouldn't have to worry about him.

Then again…they were at that age…

Uryuu straightened up again, glaring at the phone as he resumed the restless tapping of his pen.

The truth was, he didn't _start_ worrying about the boy until they came back to Karakura. Uriya had always been so impassive about the opposite sex that it was practically a nonissue. Little did he know that the _reason_ why Uriya could care less about girls in general was because he had always been dead set on the one.

Uryuu wasn't stupid. Even though Uriya never gave a word of explanation, things began falling into place once they came back to Karakura. What the boy had been so desperately searching for over the years was Orihime…and most likely, Grimmjow as well. It was obvious in the way they interacted. Not to mention, Uriya's frequent solo trips had suddenly come to a complete stop.

Whatever it was, _something_ definitely happened during the time Orihime had been taken captive in Las Noches. Something meaningful enough that it made Ulquiorra betray Aizen. Something powerful enough that it outlasted even death and rebirth. Something this genuine and rare…Uryuu wasn't about to stand in the way of it.

BUT!...that was 'long term' thinking. Right now was a completely different story, which brought Uryuu back to his original question: should he call his son?

A few more moments passed and he caved, picking up the phone. He decided he'd send the boy a text message. That was a good compromise, wasn't it? Fingers working the buttons at an efficient speed, he punched in his message: _"What are you doing now?"_

Still clutching the phone, he simply sat back and waited for a reply, hoping that the boy would respond quickly. Before long, the phone rang with an incoming message: _"The same thing I was doing when you called me…five minutes ago."_

Uryuu frowned. Was it really just five minutes ago? He could have sworn it felt much longer. Setting that thought aside, he typed in his next question: _"Where are you?"_

Moments later: _"The same place I was at…five minutes ago."_

Uryuu tried to suppress his grumble: _"I mean where in the Kurosaki household?"_

The reply didn't come when he thought it would. Uryuu wasn't sure what to make of the time lag. Was the boy hesitating for some reason? Stalling? Trying to think up some excuse?

The next message came before his thoughts had the chance to run too wild: _"If you must know that level of detail, we are in Hime's room."_

Uryuu felt his entire body tense up. Had his earlier deductions been correct? They really were alone in her room?! He typed in another message with haste: _"What are you doing?"_

Seconds later: _"Shouldn't you wait at least five more minutes before you ask that question again?"_

Uryuu decided he needed to call this time.

Uriya answered. "Yes?"

Before Uryuu could repeat his what-are-you-doing question once again, he was stopped by all the racket he was picking up from the background.

"Himeko-chan!! Save me!!!"

"Gin-chan, stop it! You'll rip the seams and his stuffing will fall out again!"

"Yeah! Listen to her, you ungrateful animal!!"

"You can just fix it with your hairpins, right? I don't see a problem."

"Himeko-chaaaaaaaan!! Heeeeeeeeeelp!!!"

Uryuu had to hold the phone away from his ear for a bit. "It's…rather lively over there," he finally said, a bit stunned. Not what he had expected at all.

"It's typical," Uriya replied simply.

"How can you study with all that noise?"

"I manage. Is there something you need?"

Uryuu faltered for a second, suddenly remembering why he had called. "I, uh…well…" He sighed. "No, forget it. It's nothing. …I'll see you at dinner."

"Ah."

Uryuu hung up and crumbled to his desk once again, feeling like an idiot. He really needed to stop thinking about this, or he'd never get any work done.

* * *

Sitting in a chair with a book opened on his lap, Uriya stared at his phone for a contemplative moment before flipping it shut. His father had been doing this for a while now. Calling him and leaving him messages at random times, asking him roundabout questions. It had been getting rather excessive as of late, and he didn't like where it was going.

At least in his immediate surroundings, things seemed to have calmed down. Himeko was sitting at her desk, focusing on the paper she was working on. Ginjo was lounging on her bed, flipping through the latest volume of 'Dye' that Love had recently dumped on him. Kon was sitting at the foot of the bed with a rather thick book in front of him and a pencil in hand, having just been "persuaded" into doing Ginjo's math homework for him simply because he had taken the lesson in Ginjo's place that day.

Himeko swiveled around in her chair and gave Uriya a beaming smile. "Ishida-kun calls you a lot, doesn't he? He must love you tons!"

The raven-haired boy looked away with a silent sigh. "I'm not so sure love is the correct term to use in this case."

* * *

(1:47 PM on a Saturday)

Uryuu was actually at home today, but Uriya was out on a date. Even though the word 'date' never came out of the boy's lips, when a boy and a girl meet up to engage in leisurely and inconsequential activities, it was basically a date.

He sent a message: _"How's your date going?"_

Uriya replied: _"Fine."_

See? He didn't deny it.

Next message: _"Will you be home for dinner?"_

_"No."_

Not the answer he hoped for: _"When will you be back?"_

_"Most likely late."_

That was even worse. What did he mean by late? Ten o'clock late? Midnight late? Three in the morning late?! Didn't Kurosaki have anything to say about this? Uryuu clicked his tongue thoughtfully as he tried to figure out how to get his point across. It was rather hard to find the right words: _"Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."_

Then came the time lag. Ah, yes. Uryuu could just picture the boy staring at the message with that look on his face.

Eventually, the reply: _"List out in detail everything you wouldn't do, and I shall consider."_

Uryuu frowned at the screen. "Smart aleck."

* * *

(12:15 PM on a Thursday)

As he had expected, Uriya received a message from his father: _"On lunch break?"_

The simple reply: _"Yes."_

_"With Himeko?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Where?"_

_"The roof."_

_"Just the two of you?"_

Uriya took a moment to stare at that frequently asked question, second only to 'what are you doing?', before punching in his reply: _"The probability of just two people out of the entire school who would think of going to the roof on a sunny day is next to nil."_

Shortly after: _"Is that a yes or a no?"_

The young Quincy closed his eyes and breathed. _This has to stop…_

* * *

(10:32 PM on a Wednesday)

Lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with his phone clutched in his hand, Uriya waited for the device to ring.

His father was out of town. Did that mean he was getting less calls and messages? No. In fact, he was getting more. In the mornings. In the evenings. Twice in the middle of the night because his father had miscalculated the time difference. Then there was the time when the man sent him a text message while he was in class and then proceeded to leave him five voice messages immediately following, wondering why he wouldn't reply.

It was all getting rather ridiculous, not to mention mentally draining. Uriya hoped that his father was just going through a phase. If not, then he was going to have to do something about it.

His phone rang with an incoming message: _"Where are you?"_

_"Home."_

_"Anyone else there?"_

_"No."_

He asked another question.

_"No."_

And then another.

_"No."_

Uriya had long since ran out of witty responses to his father's inane questions and had taken to giving simple replies in order to save time and energy. The questions were sometimes subtle, sometimes not so subtle, and were all geared towards making sure that he wasn't doing anything 'inappropriate' or 'impulsive' that could lead to 'detrimental life altering consequences' where Himeko was concerned. But because they were all pretty much variations of the same question, Uriya could almost do this with his eyes closed.

_"No." … "No." … "No."_

He had never pegged his father as someone with paranoia and an overactive imagination, but…clearly, he had been mistaken.

Countless no's later, a question popped up that caught Uriya's attention: _"So, is anyone else there?"_

The boy rested an arm over his eyes as he tried to subdue his frustration. His father was starting to repeat himself. There was only so much he could take. Finally fed up, Uriya sat up and called his father.

Uryuu answered. "Hello?"

"Do you _want_ me to say yes?"

"…"

* * *

**IMPORTANT-ISH NOTE:**

Uryuu is like a mom and a dad rolled into one. He's kinda adorable that way, though I don't think Uriya's appreciating it at the moment. Heh… Anyway, that wasn't the important-ish note. This is:

"Glimpses" will be put on hold as the actual sequel to "Searching" starts up. But before anybody gets the wrong idea, it's only a sequel in the sense that it takes place after the first one. As I had said at the end of "Searching" (boy, that was such a long time ago), the whole end of the world thing's done and over with, so the story will be on a smaller scale. Aizen won't be coming back to life. And he doesn't have an eviler twin…or a clone. LOL! This story's a different animal, I think, but I hope you'll still give it a try. Timeline wise, it takes place after all the events in "Glimpses" thus far. That's why it's being inserted at this point. I guess you can almost think of it as a multi-chaptered glimpse. Heh.

As for Kon doing Ginjo's math homework…he really doesn't know what he's doing, and Ginjo knows this. But since Ginjo wouldn't know what he was doing either, he figured the end product would be about the same anyway, so it didn't matter to him. Haha. And Himeko got tired of trying to change his mind, so she had to let it go this time around.

Before I forget, thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I posted it expecting a low response since it revolved rather heavily around an OC. I was pleasantly surprised by the feedback! XD

And much thanks to all of you for still reading this little story! Reviews appreciated!


	24. Home

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo. I got myself a mini Bleach notebook, on sale at a dirt cheap price to boot! XD

IMPORTANT NOTE: From here on out, the story will take into account events that had taken place in "Evolve", the third installment in the "Searching" series which takes place after chapter twenty-three of "Glimpses".

* * *

**Twenty-Fourth Glimpse: Home**

_Sitting before a pile of rubble in the desert sands, she cried openly, grieving for the loss of yet another home. When she felt a comforting hand descend upon her head, Nel looked up to find Pesche sitting beside her. "Why does…this always…happen?" she asked between chest-heaving sobs._

_He let out a sigh as he folded his arms in a contemplative pose. "Hmm…why, you ask?" Then, not even two seconds later, he held both hands up with a shrug. "Well, this is Hueco Mundo. There're crazy hollows everywhere," he explained, his tone carefree._

"_But we spent so much time making it!" she whined, pointing a frustrated finger at their destroyed shelter for emphasis._

_Just then, a giant eel-like creature sprung up from the sands not too far away._

"_Look, Nel!" Pesche exclaimed. "Dondochakka and Bawabawa are back!"_

_Nel watched as he got up to go meet their other companions. Sniffling as she wiped the tears from her eyes, she strained her ears to try to catch their hushed discussion._

"_Anything?" Pesche inquired in rare seriousness._

"_No," Dondochakka replied as he jumped off Bawabawa's back. "Do you think it's him?"_

"_I don't know, but I don't want to stick around to find out." Pesche turned to give the child arrancar a quick glance before continuing. "It's not safe here anymore. We have to keep moving."_

_Nel watched with curious eyes as her brothers continued to talk. Though she couldn't quite understand the meaning of their words, she was at least able to pick up on the distressed mood they were trying to hide from her. Before long, Pesche returned to her side and held his hand out to her._

"_Come on, Nel. Let's go."_

"_No!" She was upset, and she wanted to throw a fit. "Nel wants to stay here! Why can't we stay here? Why can't we have a home?"_

"_Nel," Pesche began as he crouched down before her, his comforting hand atop her head once more. "We don't have to stay here to be at home."_

_She frowned up at him, unable to comprehend._

"_All that matters is that you're safe," he explained, his voice soothing. "And as long as you're happy…anywhere can be home."_

* * *

Nel opened her eyes and blinked lazily, staring at the rebellious streams of sunlight that had pushed around the curtain's edges to invade her room.

Sunlight.

_That's right…I'm not in Hueco Mundo anymore…_

Sitting up, she slowly rolled her head from one side to the other as she rubbed her neck with her hand in attempt to alleviate the kinks in her shoulders. It was a strange feeling being in a gigai all the time. She was still getting used to it.

Stepping over to the window and pulling back the curtains, the green-haired arrancar looked out with a smile. The thoughts that dominated her nights were instantaneously banished by the sight of the blue sky and the feeling of the cool morning breeze. After taking a deep, cleansing breath, she was ready to start another day in Karakura Town.

As soon as Nel showered and dressed, she hurried downstairs to the kitchen, hoping to be the one to make it there first. Unfortunately, her hopes were shattered when she entered to find the raven-haired youth already standing at the stove. She sighed in defeat. _He beat me again…_

"Eggs," Uriya said without turning around, already knowing who had joined him.

Resigning herself, she went and took a seat at the breakfast table. "Scrambled."

"Toast."

"Blueberry."

"Drink."

"Orange."

A short while later, Uriya placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast with blueberry jam and a glass of orange juice in front of Nel. Then he sat across the table from her with his own breakfast.

"Thanks, Ulqui-nii!" she beamed at him before taking a bite out of her toast.

The only indication that he had even heard was the brief pause he made in mid-chew. _So, I'm 'Ulqui-nii' this time…_

Ever since he had convinced his father to take Nel in and they had introduced her to the living world as his adoptive sister, she had been calling him 'brother' at random and in various ways. Sometimes it was 'Uriya Onii-san'. Other times it might be 'baby brother'. He had even been called 'Ulqui Aniki' a couple of times. To this day, he still hadn't quite figured out whether she was doing it for her own amusement or to irk him.

"Hey, Ulqui," Nel began, addressing him normally this time, "since you made breakfast, can I make your lunch?"

"Already done," he replied simply. When he caught her deflated look, he heaved an inaudible sigh. "If it bothers you that much, you can make dinner." Though he didn't think it was necessary, he understood her need to feel like she was pulling her own weight.

"Really?" she perked up. "Can I make your lunch tomorrow, too?"

"Fine." It wasn't like he found great enjoyment in the task anyway. It was just something that he did because it had to be done.

"How about tomorrow's breakfast?" she asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

He looked at her with a slight hint of a smirk. "If you can get up before I do."

She gave a quiet groan as her lips turned down in a frown. As someone who had come from a place of perpetual darkness, she thought that she would naturally be able to wake up early since she should be sensitive to the light. But somehow…it didn't quite turn out that way. She supposed she _did _stick to Ginjo like glue when she first came to the living world, and that guy was definitely _not_ a morning person. She must have picked up on his rhythm.

Before she could daydream too much about the Kurosaki boy, Uriya's voice broke into her thoughts. "Better finish your breakfast quickly," he suggested, taking a casual glance at the clock on the wall. "Your other morning routine is about to begin."

Nel raised her questioning brows. "Hm?"

As if on cue, the remaining occupant of the Ishida household burst into the kitchen with a pile of clothes in his arms. "Nel-chan! Do you have a minute?"

Nel gulped down the rest of her orange juice and joined the older Quincy with a bright smile on her face. "Are all of these new?" _The speed at which he can stitch things together is nothing short of amazing!_

"Fresh off the drawing board," Uryuu announced with pride. "Some might still need a bit of tweaking, though. Let's see…"

Uriya watched wordlessly as his father held up each article of designer clothing in front of Nel in turn, looking at each with a critical eye. In his opinion, the man was getting far too excited for this early in the morning. Then again, Uriya couldn't really blame him. After all, he had finally found someone who'd play dress up with him. Nel had practically become his number one model, wearing all of his prototypes before they were even available on the market.

As for Nel, she didn't mind it. After having lived for decades in nothing but rags…the same one, to be exact…the concept of new clothes was not a bad one, never mind that her closet that had been empty just weeks ago was already beginning to overflow. Even the so called 'frills' that Uriya seemed to have such a great distaste for didn't really bother her…as long as it was used in moderation. And when it wasn't, her dear and noticeably irritated 'brother' would gladly help her detach every last piece of lace. _The speed at which he can take stitches apart is nothing short of amazing!_ Somehow, she got the feeling he'd had plenty of practice over the years…

Uryuu gave a satisfied nod when he was through. "Alright, then. I'll fix these two, and you can take the rest," he said as he dumped the pile into the girl's arms.

Nel chuckled. "Thanks, Uryuu. You're a sweetheart!"

"Neliel," Uriya called out to get her attention as he tried not to smirk at the older man's embarrassment at being called a sweetheart. "Let's go." While Nel was caught in the whirlwind that was his father, Uriya had already finished his breakfast and cleaned the dishes. With his school bag slung over one shoulder, he headed for the door.

"Coming!" After dropping off today's new clothes up in her room and waving a quick goodbye to the older Quincy, she ran out the door to catch up with the younger one.

* * *

Perched up on the branches in one of the school yard's trees, Hayate kept a lookout for the one some had been referring to as the Green-Haired Goddess. In truth, he wasn't the type of guy who would do this sort of thing, but…what kind of friend would he be if he refused to help his hopelessly love struck friend? Glancing down at his nervous friend standing at the base of the tree with a box of chocolates clutched tightly to his chest, Hayate could only sigh with a shake of his head.

On the day that Neliel Tu Oderschvank came to Karakura High, probably the entire male population of said school rejoiced and then subsequently had their spirits crushed, all in the same day, when it became painfully obvious that she had already been claimed…by none other than the Blue-Haired Devil. Yes, that had indeed been shocking to everyone, from the principle all the way down to the janitor's dog. Nobody could understand how or why, but nobody dared to ask. And because self-preservation was a part of human nature, those with average and above survival instinct basically backed off. His friend, unfortunately, did not fall into that category. Nonetheless, Hayate had to admit that, if nothing else, the guy at least had guts for attempting to steal a woman from the devil himself.

Just then, the target came into view. "Psst! Isamu, she's here!" Hayate hissed to the nervous wreck below. "Looks like you're in luck," he added after scanning the vicinity once more. "The Devil's nowhere in sight. And Ishida's gone on ahead. She's alone. If you're looking for a chance, this is it, man."

The boy named Isamu adjusted his glasses with a shaky hand as he took a couple of deep breaths that sounded suspiciously like hyperventilation, even to himself. He was well aware that in terms of strength, size, and all around presence, he had _nothing_ on Kurosaki Ginjo. However, he had brains and he had heart, whereas it was questionable whether Ginjo had either. Therefore, it wasn't _entirely_ impossible for him, right? In any case, he couldn't just give up without a fight! Steeling his nerves, he marched out from behind the tree and headed straight for the girl that was impossible to miss, coming to an abrupt stop before her. "G...good morning, Nel-san!"

Nel turned at the sound of her name, surprised eyes blinking at the tense-looking boy she didn't recognize but apparently knew who she was. "Good morning," she replied with a pleasant smile. _People here are so friendly._

"Uh…um…" Isamu gulped, his eyes suddenly looking left and right. "Wh…where's Kurosaki?" he inquired, his question coming out barely above a whisper.

"Hm? Oh, probably on his way," she said. _Most likely overslept as usual._

"I see…" He seemed to breathe a bit easier. "Well…these chocolates are from me!" he blurted as he shoved the heart-shaped box out at her.

She gasped, eyes widening. "Really?" _People here really ARE friendly!_

Unable to find his voice, Isamu could only nod vigorously as his goddess accepted his offering with a smile so brilliant it could stop his heart and send him to his grave.

Then, sensing Ginjo's approaching reiatsu, Nel turned and looked over her shoulder. "Hey, I think he's coming," she announced as she turned back around to face the boy. "If you want to—" She stopped mid-sentence, blinking at the empty space before her. "…where'd he go?"

By then, Isamu had already cunningly retreated to the safe haven behind the tree.

"Hmm…that's strange," Nel mused to herself. "I didn't even get to thank him…"

"Thank who?"

"Grimm!" She whirled around at the sound of his voice. "Look! Someone gave us a gift!" she exclaimed, holding up the so-pink-it-was-offending box.

Ginjo found himself caught between wanting to raise a brow and wanting to scowl deeper than usual. "Who?"

"A boy," she supplied as though _that _would explain it all.

Her answer persuaded him to go for 'scowling deeper'. The notion that a guy would give _him_ chocolates in a heart-shaped box wasn't just impossible, it was downright creepy. But that aside… "Ain't it just for _you_?" he deadpanned. "What makes you think he gave 'em to _us_?"

She blinked. "But he was looking for you right before he gave me the gift." It only made sense that he had intended it for both of them.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes. "You're an idiot," he mumbled, but she was so busy happily untying the so-lacy-it-hurt-his-eyes ribbons on the box that she didn't even hear him.

"Try one!" she offered, practically shoving the opened box in his face.

"Hell no," came the immediate dry response. Heck, even the chocolates were shaped like hearts. "I ain't touching that girly shit."

While he complained about the trivial, she was already indulging in the sweets. "Mmm…this is soooooooo good!"

His brow twitched as he suddenly found himself having second thoughts. He wasn't good at just watching her eat…especially when she was doing it with such a euphoric expression on her face. "Fine," he ground out in the end as he scrutinized the selections once more. "Give me one of the dark chocolate ones." Since dark chocolate was bitter, it should negate some of the girliness. At least that was how he was rationalizing it to himself.

Nel held one out. "Here."

"Toss it."

"What?"

"I ain't touching it," he repeated. As long as he didn't touch it with his hands, it didn't count. At least that was how he was rationalizing it to himself.

It was _her_ turn to roll her eyes, but she did as asked regardless, smiling ever so slightly, wondering if he realized they were currently playing opposite roles in their usual habit.

Ginjo chomped down on the chocolate and… _Holy shit, this stuff is gourmet!_ Whoever the fool was that bought this really put money into top quality goods! "Give me another one."

She laughed at his response. "Which one?"

"The one in the middle."

"No, _I_ want that one!" she retorted with a slight frown. It was the centerpiece, so it must taste the best!

"Tough shit! I called it first!"

"Fine," she said, her tone challenging. "Get it yourself."

He faltered, taking a moment to weigh his options. Was it really worth getting his hands dirty? No, not really. "Whatever. Just give me another dark chocolate."

She complied with a victorious grin.

Up in the tree, a witness to the entire thing, Hayate…despite knowing it was cruel…simply laughed. Not only did the Green-Haired Goddess not comprehend the meaning behind his friend's gesture, she was _hand feeding_ it to his rival. "Isamu…you should just give up now."

Isamu, however, was unable to hear the advice as he kept banging his forehead against the tree. "I'll get her a bracelet next time!"

Back by the school gates, the oblivious pair continued. "What're you just standing around here for?" Ginjo inquired. He would ask where Uriya was, but since Himeko had a track meet this morning, he probably went to the field to see her.

"Waiting for you," she said as she pulled a folded piece of paper out of her school bag and handed it over to him.

"What's this?" he asked suspiciously. He didn't like getting notes, since most of the ones he got tended to be written backwards and contained nonsense that had to be read through a mirror. However, once he unfolded the piece of paper and saw what was on it, he started thinking that backwards writing wasn't half bad when compared to the periodic table that was currently staring back at him.

"Think you can have it memorized before your chemistry test this afternoon?" she asked as he tried to glare a hole into the paper.

"It ain't gonna work, you know," he said bluntly. She had been going over this useless gibberish with him for the past week, forcing him to look at it. If he hadn't been able to learn it in that time, he wasn't sure what made her believe that he could somehow memorize it all in one morning.

To that, she simply shrugged. "Just do what you can."

He shoved the paper into his pocket with a sigh. "Whatever." Then, just as she was about to head for the building, he remembered something. "Hey, squirt."

"Hm?" She raised her brows and waited for him to continue.

"Wait for me when school gets out. I got something for ya."

* * *

Nel had spent a good part of the day trying to guess what it was that Ginjo wanted to give her. By now, as she sat on his bed and watched him rummage through his desk drawer for said item, she had narrowed it down to three possibilities: a new super tasty candy, a new super tasty pastry, or a new super tasty drink. Their world revolved heavily around edible things after all.

"Catch." That was his only warning before he tossed a small object her way.

After plucking it out of the air, she opened her palm, and her eyes lit up. "I knew it was candy! What flav—" A frown of confusion appeared as she blinked at the rather familiar looking object in her hand. It was round, it was green, and it was about the right size. "Is this…Kon?"

Ginjo folded his arms and leaned back against his desk. "No, but it's a modified soul…same as Kon." He knew how slim his chances were of finding another mod soul that had escaped its fate, but when he went to Urahara Shouten, he had _specifically_ requested for a one. Why? Because he simply couldn't stomach the idea of having a second one of Soul Society's standard issue Soul Candy around. Having to put up with his mother's gigai going "pyon pyon" all over the place was aggravating enough. If Nel's gigai joined in, he'd be in Pyon Pyon Hell for sure. As it turned out, luck was on his side.

"Ahh…" Nel nodded with enlightenment as she got to her feet. "So, _that's _why we went and picked this thing up!" As she held up the stuffed animal she had been holding in her arms, she thought back to their detour to the arcade on their way here:

_Standing in front of a glass box, the pair stared at the pile of plush dolls within. Ginjo gave Nel a sideward glance. "So? Which one are ya least likely to get sick of?" he asked, sounding bored._

_She blinked at him. "What do you mean?"_

_He grumbled with mild annoyance as he rephrased his question. "I said, if ya had to pick one, which one would you _not_ mind having to look at for a long time!"_

"_Oh," she said, belatedly realizing he was using Ginjo Speak again. Once she aligned herself to his mode of communication, it was easy enough for her to decipher. He was simply asking 'which one do you like?' without saying 'which one do you like?' Scanning through the selection, not entirely sure why he was asking, she made her pick. "That white one, I suppose."_

"_Done." He pumped a coin into the machine and manipulated the mechanical claw to retrieve the one she favored: a white sheep._

"From now on, that fuzz ball's gonna be your best friend," the blue-haired youth explained, pulling Nel from her thoughts.

"I didn't think I'd even get my very own kaizou konpaku," she mused as she looked between the two items in her hands. "Grimm, you really didn't have to…"

"Believe me. It's necessary," he deadpanned. "Kon will probably kill himself if he had to go another round in your gigai." Ginjo could still remember…quite vividly in fact…the onetime Nel used Kon to get out of her gigai in order to take a trip to Hueco Mundo to see Halibel:

_Kon, inside Nel's gigai, looked down at himself, eyes bulging in horror. "Wh…what?...why?" And when he looked up at Ginjo, the blood had drained from his face. "Ginjo! Get me out of this!"_

"_What the hell are you complaining about?" the vizard drawled, unsympathetic. "You always wanted to get close to women, right? Well…have at it."_

"_Bu…but.." With mortification, Kon looked down at himself once more, hands coming up to cup over both of his breasts. "This…this…" It was completely wrong. It couldn't get any further from his fantasies even if he tried! By the time he looked up again, his tears were already gushing out of his eyes and flowing down his cheeks like waterfalls. "IT'S NOT THE SAAAAAME!" he wailed. "My face can't even reach this heavenly valley! You just don't get it! I want out! I want out NOW! Use the glove! I'd rather be a pill!"_

"_It's in the washer," came the uncaring reply._

"_LIAR!"_

While it might have been fun to watch Kon freak out that one time, it would be annoying to have to do it repeatedly. Besides, Nel would need a means to get out on her own sooner or later.

Taking the pill out of Nel's hand, Ginjo studied it briefly. "Now…let's see if this thing expired." Cupping her chin with one hand, he popped the pill into her mouth with the other.

The arrancar's soul was immediately pushed out. She stretched her arms and heaved a sigh of satisfaction, relishing the feel of being freed from her gigai. "Ah, this feels great!"

As for the mod soul that was now inhabiting Nel's gigai, with eyes still closed, she reached up and gently clasped both of her hands around Ginjo's wrist before he could remove his hand from her chin. "Are you…Kurosaki Ginjo?" she asked, somewhat hesitant.

He scowled slightly. "How'd ya know my name?"

Processing only his confirmation but not his question, she opened her eyes and looked at him for the first time, her expression filled with elation and what could only be described as utter adoration. "You…finally came for me. I've been waiting for you…Ginjo-sama…"

"…what?" he asked intelligently, not entirely sure if he heard her correctly.

In response, she merely got down on one knee, still holding his hand in both of hers. "From this day on, I am at your service. Your wish is my command."

Caught off guard by this mod soul who was suddenly pledging allegiance to him like he was the lord of the land, Ginjo froze for a sec before responding. "Actually," he said as he retrieved his hand from her hold, "you'll be serving her."

"What?" The mod soul looked over her shoulder at Nel before turning back to Ginjo. "But…I was always meant to serve _you_, Ginjo-sama," she said, confused and somewhat disheartened. "Urahara had said so…"

Ginjo quirked a brow. "You heard our conversation?"

"Yes, but…I've actually known for years."

At this point, Nel interjected. "What are you two talking about?"

Ginjo raked a hand through his hair. "Urahara told me that he came across this mod soul around the time I was born. He'd been holding on to it for me, cuz he figured I'd need it at some point. But since I got Kon, it never happened."

"My entire life, all I've ever done was wait," the mod soul began with downcast eyes. "At first, it was waiting to serve my purpose. Then it was waiting to be terminated. I felt fortunate when I realized I had somehow avoided termination. But as time dragged on and nothing happened…I began to think otherwise. Being conscious of my surroundings, yet, unable to move or speak…to have to continue to exist like that indefinitely is a dreadful experience. I would have been better off terminated with the rest of my kind. Then I ended up at Urahara Shouten. When Urahara recognized me for what I am, he said that you will have use for me someday, Ginjo-sama." She looked up at him then. "That gave me hope, and so I continued to wait…for you."

By now, Ginjo had been taken _completely_ out of his comfort zone. He didn't take sob stories well. He had no idea how to react, especially when she was looking at him like he was her savior when all he did was make a decision to go pick up a pill. And it certainly didn't help that Nel looked like she was already being swept away by it all.

"Grimm, you saved her from that miserable existence," Nel stated as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "You're a hero!"

"Stop overreacting!" he yelled.

"But you _did_ save me," agreed the Nel look-a-like at his feet, rather enthusiastically. "I am forever in your debt."

"I said stop overreacting!" He felt a sudden urge to throw something. Anything.

That was when the unsuspecting and unfortunate Kon stepped into the room. "Hey, what's—" He didn't even have time to register Ginjo's approaching form when he was swiped up by his leg and thrown across the room for no apparent reason. Once he regained his balance after bouncing off multiple surfaces, he had every intention of giving that arrogant brat a piece of his mind. However, at the sight of twin Nels…both moving…the speech he was formulating inside his head fell apart, and he remained silent.

Having released a bit of his frustration, Ginjo turned back to the mod soul. "You…you…" He frowned when he realized he didn't know what to call her. "What's your name?"

She gave him a meaningful look. "I would be honored if you would give me one."

He scratched his head roughly. _What a pain…_ "Whatever." He devoted a total of three seconds to the task before coming up with… "Paku!"

Nel quirked a brow. "Paku?" _Sounds like something you'd name a dog…_

Paku, however, seemed rather happy about it.

"First things first," Ginjo continued, not wasting a moment. "Get up." Grabbing her by the shoulders, he yanked her to her feet. "Next. You and me…" he said as his finger alternated repeatedly between pointing at her and himself . "It ain't gonna work. I'm a guy, and you're obviously female. It's just…" he shook his head, resolute. "No." Even though it sucked, having his body walk around as a wimpy pervert was still better than having it prance around like a girl.

"So then…you don't want me?" Paku asked dejectedly.

The vizard nearly sputtered. He really didn't like the way she made that sound. If his old man had heard that, Ginjo was sure his head would be unjustly placed on a platter by now. Somehow, answering either yes or no sounded wrong. "I want you to work with Nel!"

She took a glance back at the arrancar once more, still obviously disheartened. "I understand. If it's what you wish, then I shall obey." Reluctantly turning to Nel, she gave a bow. "From today on, I will be in your care. Please let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

Nel smiled kindly. "I'm sure we'll get along."

"Now that _that's_ settled…" Ginjo snapped on a black glove then proceeded with pushing Paku out of the gigai without further warning and dropping the pill inside the sheep's mouth.

When Paku took note of her surroundings once more after the brief blackout, she realized the sudden remarkable size difference between herself and the others. Standing upon the bed, she studied the strange fluffy form she was now in. "Wha…?"

"That's the body you'll be in most of the time," Ginjo supplied.

"WHAT?" She could not help the look of mortification. "But…but it's so embarrassing!"

"Deal with it," he told her straight. "It's either this or the pill. Take your pick."

Paku opened her mouth, but found she could not argue.

By now, Kon had finally managed to find his way out of his stupor. All his nasty thoughts about Ginjo forgotten, he ran over to the youth with teary eyes and hugged his leg. "GINJOOOOOO! I love you! I love you! I love you!" He had always thought he was the only one left. He had never been so happy.

Ginjo grumbled. "Damn it, not you, too!" He swung his leg, tossing the stuffed lion across the room once more. Then, cursing under his breath, he headed for the door.

"Where're you going?" Nel inquired, now once again in her gigai.

"Kitchen," he called out from the hallway. All this weird drama was making him hungry.

"I want half of whatever you're having!" the former tercera Espada announced before happily following after him.

"Wait for me, too, Ginjo-sama!" Paku hopped off the bed, but she wasn't able to get far before she found herself being held back by the walking stuffed lion. "Hey, let go," she said with mild annoyance.

"Wait, Paku-chan," Kon began, "I…my name's Kon. I'm a kaizou konpaku, just like you!" He was grinning like the idiot that he was. This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship with all kinds of possibilities! The two of them…the last of their kind… It was like a fairytale setup. With him in Ginjo's body and her in Nel's gigai… "Heheh…" Ah, yes…all kinds of possibilities…

"Kon…you say?" Paku scanned the drooling stuffed lion from head to toe, her expression darkening. "Ah…so, _you're_ the reason I can't serve Ginjo-sama…" Her voice was low with venom practically dripping from every syllable.

"Eh?" Kon backed away slightly. Somehow, the fluffy white sheep suddenly seemed menacing. He could have sworn her eyes were glowing red. "Well…that's…"

She advanced, pulling him in by the fabric of his chest with every intention to intimidate. "You bastard. What do you want with me, huh?"

Kon gulped. _Did her personality just do a one-eighty?_ "Nothing!" he yelped, trying his hardest to keep his voice from cracking. "I just thought…since you're new here and all…I could show you around town. We could hang out…and stuff…"

"Don't kid, you stuffed fool," she scoffed. "If you come near me again, I'll kick your ass. Touch me again, and I'll kill you!" With that warning, she let go and began to walk away.

"Paku-chan! Wait!" Kon wasn't about to let his fairytale turn to dust before it even began.

The moment Kon touched her shoulder, Paku whirled around and drove her fist into his face. "I said lay off, you dumbass!"

As Kon made his aerial journey across the room yet again, he noted one thing: instead of a sheep, his counterpart was in fact a demoness in sheep's clothing. Was he going to give up his quest? Of course not. He liked a woman with a fiery spirit. In any case, at least he found out what her special ability was. "…nice…nice punch…"

* * *

It was around sunset by the time Nel and Paku left the Kurosaki household. Strolling along the quiet neighborhood street, Nel noticed how her companion would keep looking back towards the way from which they came. "We don't live that far away," she supplied in hopes of easing the mod soul's anxiety. "This town's not that big anyway."

Paku folded her arms and held her head up, trying not to appear embarrassed for being caught. "Let's be clear," she stated in a no nonsense tone of voice. "I'm only working with you because Ginjo-sama asked me to. I belong to him, not you."

"That's fine," Nel replied with a soft smile. "Don't worry. We'll get to see him all the time."

"_You'll_ get to see him all the time," Paku corrected. "Look at me. It's not like I can inconspicuously get around in this vessel." Even now, she'd have to play dead if someone decided to pop out around the corner.

Nel folded her hands behind her back, eyes turning up to the sky in thought. "Mmm…Kon seems to manage pretty well."

Paku spit to the side. Just the sound of that name was enough to light her fire. "…damn bastard…"

Nel chuckled lightly. With her new partner around, she had a feeling things were going to get even livelier than they already were.

The sheep frowned at that reaction. "Hey, are you laughing at me? Don't think that just because I'm new around here you can pick on me. I was born to fight, you know!" She held up her plushy hooves for emphasis.

"Mm, I'm pretty new here myself," Nel noted, completely unaffected by…or perhaps unaware of…the hostility.

Paku blinked up at her before turning her attention back to the sidewalk. "You're a hollow, aren't you?" she inquired, suddenly serious. Even if she hadn't seen the broken mask on Nel's head, she was able to tell from the feel of her reiatsu. "What're you doing here in the living world?" She couldn't understand. Wasn't Nel the enemy? The kind of being she had been created to fight? What was a hollow doing here, being all passive among humans and shinigami? It went against everything in her knowledge base. It didn't make sense.

"…I sometimes wonder about that myself," Nel said quietly, almost to herself, as she came to a stop. "We're here," she announced without giving her companion a chance to react, a smile back on her features. As Paku turned her head up to take in the sight of the Ishidas' house, Nel opened the front door for her. "Welcome to your new home."

* * *

"_Why me, Nnoitora? We've been through this so many times already. There are others who I'm sure would be happy to take you up on this. I, however, have no interest in a senseless death match with you."_

"_You don't get it, do you, Neliel? That is precisely the reason why…"_

_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_

"_Dondochakka!" she screamed with horror._

"_Pesche! Take Nel and go!" Dondochakka yelled, hands holding a crescent shaped blade within his own abdomen._

___-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_

_Strapped to the surface of a cold metal table, she struggled to get free._

"_Relax, Neliel." Szayel smiled as he loomed over her, tools in his hands. "This won't hurt one bit."_

___-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_

_She watched as he was cut down before her eyes. "PESCHE!" She turned to Nnoitora, furious. "He has nothing to do with this! Why did you do it?"_

"_Come now… You're an intelligent woman. I'm sure you can figure it out…"_

___-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_

"_I will give you what you want."_

"_So, you're gonna die for me?"_

"_No… What you really want..."_

* * *

Sitting on the roof in her spirit form with arms wrapped around her knees, Nel stared dully out at the town. She was fine during the day. However, when night fell and the world around her was asleep, memories of the past would flood her mind, making it impossible for her to truly rest. It must be because the night sky reminded her of Hueco Mundo, the bleak desert that used to be her home.

She didn't miss that place, not at all, especially when those who were important to her were no longer there. Nonetheless, it was the only place that she knew. Even though Ginjo had told her she didn't really 'fit in' in Hueco Mundo, it didn't necessarily mean that she belonged in the living world either. She had made the decision to come here because she wanted to, but there was always a part of her that questioned whether that had been the right thing to do. While Soul Society had made an exception for her to remain in the living world, the fact that an exception had to be made meant that she wasn't supposed to be here to begin with…

Her train of thought was interrupted when she felt knuckles knocking continuously against the mask atop her head. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" She placed her hands protectively over her head before looking up at her abuser. "What was that for?"

Ginjo, also in his spirit form, looked down at her with a mixture of irritation and disapproval. "It's cuz you have this stupid look on your face that says you're thinking about stupid things."

Nel looked away wordlessly with a slight pout, hand rubbing over her mask to make sure it wasn't damaged.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" he asked.

"I couldn't sleep," she said, resuming her previous position, "so, I thought I'd sit out here and think for a bit. Clear my head."

"Aren't you supposed to do that kinda shit on your _own_ roof?" he asked dryly as he took up a sitting position beside her on the roof of _his_ house. He had barely settled in when she dropped into sleeping position, claiming one of his thighs as her pillow as she lay on her side, looking out to the streets. "Wh…what the hell?" he said, somewhat baffled. "Hey, get off, squirt."

"No," she replied, defiance in her voice.

"What do you mean 'no'?" It was _his_ leg!

"Because you won't let me sleep in your room anymore," she accused.

He rolled his eyes. "Quit whining about it already! There's no space!" Seriously. How many times did he have to repeat himself on this one?

"And you won't sleep in my room either." Her bed was twice as big as his. There certainly weren't any space issues there.

Ginjo fisted his hands in his hair and tried not to scream. "OK. I'm gonna explain this very clearly. If my old man finds you sleeping in my bed, he'll just cut off my head and turn me into a dead man. If _Uriya's_ old man finds me sleeping in _your_ bed…he'll probably cut off something else and turn me into a woman." As it was, Ishida Uryuu was already extending his overprotective nature to Nel, calling her and leaving her messages almost as frequently as he did for his son. It wasn't that Ginjo was scared. Heck no. It was just way more trouble than it was worth.

"So, this is the only way," she concluded.

"Only way _what_?" He didn't get it.

She chuckled lightly but gave no reply as she closed her eyes and relished in the feel of his reiatsu. She was rather addicted to it…the way his intimidating and ferocious reiatsu calmed and soothed her.

Seeing that she wasn't going to give him an answer, he thought back to what she had said initially. "Ya did it all wrong."

"Did what wrong?"

"You weren't clearing your head," he drawled. "You were filling it up with shit."

"…I was clearing it just fine until you interrupted me." Though he wasn't able to see the pout on her face, he definitely heard it in her voice.

Silence reigned the following moments before Ginjo spoke again. "Look, Nel," he began with a seriousness he rarely displayed. "If there's somewhere else you'd rather be, then fine. You can leave whenever the hell you want. But if you're thinking about going back to that hell hole just because you think you got no business being here, then that's just retarded bullshit."

Nel shot up and turned to him, startled eyes searching his for answers. "How did you…?"

"Cuz you had this stupid look on your face that said you were thinking about stupid things," he reiterated bluntly. It was the same look she had that night he dragged her back from Hueco Mundo.

She averted her eyes, dispirited.

"And it ain't like ya got here for free," he continued, his hand reaching out to touch the red ring that had been forever etched into the skin of her neck, his thumb brushing over it in thought. He was still peeved at Soul Society for putting that thing on her. When Nel placed her hand over his, it brought him out of his reverie. "So, even if you're stupid enough to go back, you should at least reap all the god damn benefits from this rotten deal before you leave."

"Like what?" she asked, a small smile returning to her.

"How the hell should I know?" he said irritably. "Just do whatever makes ya happy."

"…_as long as you're happy…anywhere can be home…"_

Nel reflected on that voice from her memory. Was she happy? Thinking back, hadn't she been smiling pretty much all day long?

"I swear you're nothing but trouble," Ginjo grumbled with a bit of exasperation.

She gave a quiet chuckle. "Mm…I help you study," she tried.

"That's what I call trouble," he retorted without missing a beat.

"How did your chemistry test go?" she asked, since they were on the subject.

"Not bad. Pretty sure I passed." As long as he didn't have to take a retest, that was good enough in his book.

"See!" she exclaimed excitedly. "I'm not just trouble."

"Yeah. Thanks for the cheat sheet."

"What?" she said with an incredulous gasp. "You didn't!"

A wide grin spread across his features.

"That wasn't what it was for!" she argued, referring to the periodic table she gave him that morning.

"Hey, you're the one who said to do what I can, right?" He shrugged. "So, I did."

Nel placed a hand on her forehead with a sigh. "Ulqui was right."

He raised a brow. "What did that bastard say this time?"

"'He's an idiot who's surprisingly adept at devising methods to ensure that he remains an idiot,'" she said, quoting the former cuarta Espada word for word.

His brow twitched. "I'm gonna go bankai on his Quincy ass the next time I see him," he promised himself as he got to his feet.

Nel quirked a questioning brow up at him, silently asking what he was doing.

He glanced down at her with a devious grin. "I've '_devised a method' _for that to happen sooner," he replied as he held out a hand to her, offering to help her up.

She shook her head with a sigh, laughter in her eyes. Since she doubted that he would start a fight with Uriya over something so trivial at this hour of the night, she decided she should interpret that as Ginjo Speak for 'I'll walk you home'.

"Come on," he prompted, the Kurosaki scowl on his features. "We ain't got all day."

She paused for a reflective moment as she looked at his proffered hand. Then with a content smile on her lips, she placed her hand in his.

_Pesche…I think I'm home…_

* * *

A/N: OMG! I can't believe it's been nearly a year and a half since "Evolve" wrapped up and over 2 years since the last chapter of "Glimpses" was posted! Well, as I've mentioned on my profile page (that probably nobody reads, LOL!), life threw me a couple of major curve balls last year, and the real world has become quite a bit more demanding. I've finally managed enough time and mental power to write up another chapter. I wonder if you readers still remember what this little story's about? Heh…

This chapter focuses on Nel as a way of bringing the storyline from "Evolve" back into "Gimpses". I figured it'll also help introduce her to those who haven't read "Evolve".

And Paku makes her debut! She's been kicking around in my head for a while now. Although initially her name was going to be Noku. That's Kon spelled backwards with a Japanese accent at the end. LOL! But it was too awkward, so now she's Paku-chan. She's really hung up on/devoted to/obsessed with Ginjo since his name and the very loose not-quite-promise that he would need her someday were the only things sustaining her already fragile sanity the past 17 years. She's 100% submissive in front of Ginjo, a demoness in the face of Kon, and a tomboy with manners issues the rest of the time.

According to this one website, Isamu means courage/bravery. Since one requires a certain amount of guts to do what he's trying to do, it made sense to me. Hayate means smooth. Not sure why anyone would name their son smooth, but it fits the image I wanted for him: laid back and easy going. These two may or may not return for another cameo.

Onto something unrelated: there's now a character named Ginjou in canon (also spelled Ginjo with an accent on the "o"). (O.O) I thought it was funny at first, but now it's become a bit distracting because every time I see it I start thinking about _my_ Ginjo. LOL! Well, at least the kanji for "jo" is not written the same way. Otherwise, I might be upset, because Ginjo's my baby, and he's supposed to be special and unique. Heh.

And just in case you thought this chapter wasn't already long enough, here's an omake:

* * *

**Omake:**

(Next day, Karakura High's rooftop, lunch hour)

While Himeko and Nel were engrossed in a conversation about personal preferences for muffin flavors…with blueberry and chocolate making Nel's list while soy sauce and seaweed made Himeko's…Uriya took the opportunity to ask Ginjo a question that had been on his mind all night.

"I met her," the young Quincy began.

"What?" Ginjo asked between bites of his sandwich. "Met who?"

Uriya heaved an internal sigh. It was so ridiculous; he didn't want to say it. "Paku."

"Yeah? So?" No surprise there. The guy lived with Nel. Obviously he'd meet the new mod soul.

"She said that you had, and I quote, _'bestowed'_ that name upon her."

"Yeah? So?" Ginjo repeated, still more interested in his food, not sure what Uriya was trying to get at.

"Why, may I ask, did you give her that name?" Uriya had a pretty good idea, but he was hoping his friend wasn't that idiotic.

Ginjo shrugged. "She's a kaizou konpaku, right? Since 'Kon' is already taken, she's 'Paku'." It made sense to him.

The raven-haired youth closed his eyes. Apparently…Ginjo really _was_ that idiotic. "Ginjo."

"What now?" the blue-haired youth replied, annoyance painted over his features.

"If you should ever have children, please do not name them yourself."

* * *

A/N: Heh. Ginjo must have gotten his naming sense from Ichigo. He and Himeko should probably count themselves lucky that Ichigo wasn't the one who named them. Haha!

Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated! Let me know if you guys are still out there! XD


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